


More Fools They

by steph7of7



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Double Penetration, Even more rape, Gang Rape, Graphic Rape, I still don't know, Late-developing feelings, M/M, More Rape, Object Penetration, Parts of this are pretty dark actually, Rape, Rationalizations and justifications for all sorts of reprehensible acts, Seriously: Rape, Sex as a Weapon, Stockholm Syndrome seems pretty similar to love sometimes?, Stockholm Syndrome?, Threesome - M/M/M, Unreliable POVs all the way around, Whipping then Rape, did I mention the unreliable POVs?, man; I don't know, rape recovery seems pretty similar to Stockholm Syndrome sometimes?, rape recovery?, the author demonstrates a deep fondness for one Ronald Bilius Weasleay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:06:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 24
Words: 139,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22202311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steph7of7/pseuds/steph7of7
Summary: Harry makes an offer he doesn't understand. Snape accepts an offer he can't possibly comprehend. More fools they.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape, Harry Potter/Severus Snape/Other(s)
Comments: 115
Kudos: 256





	1. Indoctrination

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Fool Too Late](https://archiveofourown.org/works/73399) by [atrata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/atrata/pseuds/atrata). 



> Ssssoooo...honestly, you shouldn't read this. This is whole lot of rape porn, followed by entirely too much plot, and then more rape porn. And, also--unfortunately--more plot. (So, a little something for everybody, non?)
> 
> Yeah. This isn't okay. It's awful. I'd read "A Fool Too Late" by atrata, and the ending bothered me, because--I mean, it was rape, sure, but did they need to be so...mean?...after it was over? So I just wanted to change the ending, but instead I made it a million times longer, and added a whole lot more rape, I guess? My apologies to everyone, ever. Especially atrata. Btw--you should read her story first, obviously, if you are going to figure out what's going on here.
> 
> So: the set-up is atrata. Everything after it was...not atrata. It was...me, I guess? Hell, all I know is this: it's dirty and terrible and that's a KID and why would you PUT THAT THERE?! How is that enjoyable for ANYONE? Ew, no, stop--what happens next?
> 
> Anyhoo, there are probably about ten brazillion grammatical and spelling errors in this thing. For crying out loud, I wrote this thing in Notepad--IN NOTEPAD--as if that somehow makes it less...real? (The thing about Notepad is that it doesn't read what you wrote and judge you. The downside is, it doesn't underline your typos.) And I OBVIOUSLY can't find a beta--that would mean contacting some other human being on planet Earth and saying, "Oh, hey, can you read this thing I wrote?" Yeah!--hard pass.
> 
> Trigger Warnings: Did you read the tags? R A P E. A little bit of rape, followed with a side of rape. Especially, rape. Oh! And also rape. (By the by, how do you feel about the rape of children? No reason! just asking!) (FYI, Harry is 13 at the start of this story. Again, just saying! no reason!) And also there's some eventual rape-related PTSD. Moreover, I depict rapists and abusers as sympathetic characters. YEAH. Yeah. I know; I went there. Seriously, why are you still reading this? Don't blame me for your bad choices. Don't read through this and get to a certain part and be like, "Oh, you didn't warn me that it would be like this!" Just--just listen: this story is painful and traumatic for everyone involved, and by the end of it, I'm not sure that any of my characters could consent their way out of a paper bag. For all of that, there is a happy ending, as such things go, so...yay (!) (?). (Okay, it's a happy- _ish_ ending. When compared with the beginning. And middle. And the late-middle and early-last parts.) Also--hey!--there's no gun violence anywhere in this whole fic. Hurrah! How forward-thinking and liberal of me, to avoid such barbarism!
> 
> Now, if you're ready--if this sounds like it's your scene--
> 
> (1) what the _fuck_ is wrong with you, you fucking sicko--  
> (2) [SHRUG]--I mean, I don't judge--as long as no one gets hurt, right?--
> 
> let's go read about rape! (If you're a little unsure about how you feel about that, I suggest reading it in Notepad??)
> 
> HONESTLY: A FINAL WARNING: some people are reading this whole fic, and leaving comments like, "...I mean, it was well-written, but terrible! Why are kids being raped all over the place in here? And how can you call THIS a happy ending?" Dear reader, those are fair comments. I AM TRYING TO STOP YOU FROM READING. I WROTE A TERRIBLE THING. YOU PROBABLY SHOULDN'T READ IT.

# PART I: The Potions Master and the Wolf

CHAPTER 1: Indoctrination

"Well done, Potter." Snape's drawl snapped him out of his reverie, and he sat up and looked around. "You have successfully rescued Professor Lupin from my evil clutches. I think it's time you went back to your dormitory."

"But--"

"It's all right, Harry," Lupin said, pressing a quick kiss to his temple and brushing the fringe out of his eyes. "It's getting late." He slid forward and set Harry gingerly on the floor before sprawling backwards over the table and throwing his arm over his eyes with a groan.

"Professor? What--"

"You heard him, Potter. Out." He cast a quick cleansing charm and a healing charm that left him slightly sore, but not aching. "In the future, I suggest you stay out of other people's business."

"But--" He glanced quickly at Professor Lupin. "Is he all right?"

"He's fine. Or will be shortly. Regardless, it isn't any of your concern."

Harry glared at Snape. "But it is my business--after--he just--you just--"

"After you were just raped by two grown men," Professor Lupin snapped. "Just put on your clothes and go."

"But," Harry said, not understanding. He didn't know what _rape_ was, not really, but he was pretty sure that girls got raped, not boys. 

"He could stay, Professor Lupin. He could watch. He could join in, if he wanted," Snape said, with a calculating look at Harry's naked body. Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"We could rape him again, you mean," Lupin said bitterly.

But as Harry stood there hesitating, Snape walked up to him and touched his face. Harry forced himself not to flinch. "What's rape if he wants it, Remus?" Snape said silkily, not taking his eyes off Harry. 

Harry swallowed.

Lupin finally moved his arm and turned his head to look at Harry. "You're a good boy, Harry," he said. "You don't want to do that again, do you?"

Snape huffed a laugh. "We don't have to do it like that again, Potter. There are... _other_ things we could do." This last was directed at Lupin, which was just as well, because Harry didn't know what he was talking about. Lupin seemed to know, though, and he whimpered and covered his eyes again.

"Come, Potter," Snape said. "Lupin wants something from you, but he's afraid to ask."

Snape put a firm hand on Harry's shoulder and guided him over to Lupin. Harry only stumbled slightly. Snape bent down and whispered in Harry's ear. "Ask him what he wants, Potter."

Harry shuddered. His arse clenched and he wasn't sure what he wanted himself, and didn't know if he should be afraid of what Lupin might want. His eyes went to Lupin's cock, still exposed, and he felt himself getting hard again. Harry swallowed.

"Ask him, Potter," Snape whispered again, and licked Harry's ear, making him shudder again.

"Sir?" Harry said uncertainly. "Do you want something?"

Lupin moaned. "Stop it, Severus," he said, but as Harry watched, Professor Lupin's cock started to get hard, too.

"He's afraid to ask for it," Snape whispered in Harry's ear again, and snaked his hand around to touch Harry's cock.

Harry made a choking sound. "Sir?" he tried again. "Can I do something for you?"

Lupin looked at Snape. "Please, stop."

Snape grinned. "The boy wants to help you, Lupin, but he doesn't know how. Tell him." Snape continued to stroke Harry's cock, and then Harry startled slightly when Snape's other hand went to Harry's arse. But instead of the huge pestle, Snape just slid cool fingers into his arse. Harry sighed and wiggled into the sensation.

"Look at him, Lupin," Snape said.

Lupin looked in Harry's direction, but his eyes were focused on what Snape's hands were doing. And then, as if Snape had been waiting for this, he moved his fingers just _so_ and hit that same _something_ inside of Harry that almost made his knees buckle. Harry made an indecent sound, and he felt Lupin's eyes on his face.

"Harry," Lupin choked out, and Harry looked at him. "Come here," he said.

Harry hesitated, but then Snape removed both of his hands, making Harry whimper. Snape ignored this and pushed Harry forward. Harry kept his eyes on Lupin's cock.

"Do you want to touch it?" Snape whispered in his ear.

Harry swallowed and nodded. Snape licked a stripe on Harry's neck and bit down on his shoulder. "Then do it," Snape said in a commanding voice.

Harry reached out a hand and touched Lupin's cock. Lupin groaned and reached down to wrap his own hand around Harry's, guiding him in rhythmic strokes. 

"Harry," Lupin said, and Harry looked up into his eyes. "Lick it," Lupin said.

Harry frowned, and Lupin groaned again. "You're such a good boy, Harry," he said. "Put your mouth on it."

Behind Harry, Snape laughed. "I'll show him," Snape said, and walked around to the other side of the table. Keeping his eyes on Harry, Snape _licked_ up Lupin's cock and grinned at Harry while Lupin moaned and grabbed at Snape's hair. And then Snape wrapped his lips around the tip of Lupin's cock and--never looking away from Harry--sank his head all the way down. 

Harry whimpered and grabbed his own cock. Snape lifted his head and said sharply, "Don't touch yourself. Only we can touch you while you're here." Harry dropped his hands, and took an involuntary step closer to the table, facing Snape, with Lupin's cock between them. 

Lupin raised himself up onto his elbows. "Do it," he said raggedly.

Snape locked his eyes with Harry's, and moved his mouth to Lupin's cock. Harry moved closer, too, and Snape's eyes glittered. "Do what I do," he said, and licked Lupin's cock again.

"Christ," Lupin muttered.

Harry stuck out his own tongue and slowly licked Lupin's cock. It wasn't bad, and he went to do it again, and Snape joined him this time, licking the other side of Lupin's cock. When they reached the tip, Snape kept going with his tongue and licked into Harry's mouth, grabbing Harry's head and kissing him hard. 

It was Harry's first kiss, and it left him breathless and woozy. And then Snape ended the kiss and pulled Harry's head toward Lupin's cock. "Mind your teeth," Snape said, and Harry tried not to fight as Snape pushed his head down, but he was soon gagging and choking, until Snape muttered something that was probably a spell, and Harry found that he could take Lupin's cock all the way into the back of his throat. 

And then Snape's hands were gone, replaced by Lupin's, who kept saying "Good boy, good boy." And then Snape grabbed Harry from behind, and without ceremony, Snape pushed his cock into Harry's arse, and it was almost welcome, and not nearly as painful as it had been the last time when there had already been a cock there, and it almost felt good, and Harry moaned on Lupin's cock and Lupin shuddered and came in Harry's mouth, and--that should probably have been weird, but Harry barely had time to think on it, barely registered the bitter taste--but Snape kept pounding into Harry's arse, and hit that _spot_ again, and Harry yelled and came himself, and Snape kept pounding into him until he finished.

Lupin recovered first. "Fuck," he said.

Shaky and unsure of himself, Harry didn't know what to say. _Snape had been his first kiss, and he'd liked it._

Lupin seemed to see something in Harry's eyes, because he asked kindly, "That wasn't so bad, was it, Harry?"

Snape, still behind Harry, chuckled darkly. "Indeed not," Snape said. "The more we rape him, the easier it gets to rape him again."

"Boys can't get raped," Harry said, and he was pretty sure that was true until he turned and saw the look Professor Snape was giving him. "Right, sir?" he added uncertainly.

"Call _him_ 'sir.' Call me 'Professor.'"

More uncertain that ever, Harry said, "Yes, Professor."

Snape smiled, almost cruelly. This made Harry angry, so he said, "You kissed me."

Snape just blinked at him, and somehow Harry knew he'd broken form. He corrected himself. "You kissed me, Professor."

Snape smiled again, just as cruelly. "I did."

"Probably the only part of this whole experience he understood," Lupin muttered.

"That's not true," Harry snapped, and he felt Professor Snape's hand clench on his shoulder. "That's not true, sir," Harry corrected himself.

"Oh, Merlin, you're training him," Lupin said.

"And he's taking rather well to it, don't you think?" Snape said. "He always just needed something more productive to do with that mouth." The hand on Harry's shoulder became a caress, and Harry found himself leaning into it. Then Snape did something truly odd and kissed the top of Harry's head. "I have an idea, Lupin," he said. " _Incarcerous_."

Harry's hands were suddenly bound above his head. Startled, he tried to move, but found that although his feet were still on the floor, his hands were bound to the ceiling.

"Sn--S--Professor?" he asked shakily.

"Good boy," Snape said, and sank to his knees and put his mouth around Harry's soft cock. Harry squeaked as his cock started to get hard almost immediately. 

Not quite believing what was happening, Harry looked at Lupin. "Lu--Pro--Sir?" he asked.

But then Snape manoeuvred Harry around so that his back was to Lupin. Snape moved his mouth to lick at Harry's balls _fuck he licked Harry's balls fuck_ and, with his hands, he pulled at Harry's arse. Harry hoped he'd put in some fingers, but Snape's hands stayed away from his hole.

"Jesus fuck, Severus," Lupin said, from right behind Harry, and then Harry heard Lupin rustling around behind him, and then--and then-- _Lupin was kissing his arsehole_ while Snape held his cheeks open. And then Lupin used his thumbs and his tongue to drive Harry crazy, as Snape continued to suck his cock, and Harry didn't know it was possible to feel all of this at the same time, and he didn't think he could come again, until he came. Snape chuckled around his cock and licked him clean.

And then Harry's shoulders started to hurt, and he realised he was hanging from the ceiling and his legs couldn't support him at all.

"Good boy, Harry," Lupin said, as he helped Harry to his feet and cancelled the spell that tied him up.

"Shall we rape him a fourth time, or send him along?" Professor Snape asked, sounding bored.

Lupin shuddered, and Professor Snape smiled again, in a way that Harry found he almost liked.

"Ask Harry, then," Professor Snape said.

"Harry, was that so bad?"

"N--no, sir, it was good," Harry said. He wasn't sure "good" was the right word--but it hadn't been _bad_ , certainly. But he was naked and Lupin and Professor Snape kept looking at him--and they didn't look angry with him--they looked almost pleased, but it wasn't the same look Uncle Vernon gave Dudley, not quite. But it was better than the way Uncle Vernon looked at Harry, and better than the way Snape usually looked at him. Besides, Snape and Lupin kept calling him a "good boy." So Harry nodded and repeated firmly, "It was good."

"Would you like to do anything else?" Lupin asked kindly.

Harry hesitated. Snape had kissed him, after all, but not Lupin. It didn't seem fair.

"Harry?"

"Could you kiss me, sir?"

Lupin's eyes became unreadable and almost scary, but Harry didn't look away. "I will kiss you, Harry, but you must do something for me."

This was a relief to Harry, who had thought for a moment that Lupin might say no. "Anything, sir."

Snape came up behind Harry, and started running his hands up and down Harry's legs and thighs. "Be careful what you promise him, Potter. He pretends to kindness, but he can be more cruel than I." But even as Snape said this, he licked the nape of Harry's neck, and slipped one hand down Harry's arse. Harry arched into it without thinking, and Snape laughed and slipped a finger inside Harry. "Lupin," Snape said, as if something had just occurred to him. "He's such a sweet fuck." And he slipped in another finger, and Harry ground back against him. "Ask him for anything, he'll give it to you." 

"And if I ask if Severus and I can both fuck you at the same time again? Would you like that, Harry?"

"Yes, sir," Harry gasped, and Snape bit his shoulder. "But you'll kiss me, right?"

"Of course, Harry." Lupin said, his voice hard. "But won't it hurt you, if we both fuck you again?"

Harry hesitated. "It might hurt, but I can handle it." He tried to hold Lupin's eyes, but Snape's fingers were very distracting.

"I want him on all fours," Lupin said to Snape.

"Of course you do," Snape said. "Kiss him first."

"I'll kiss him after," Lupin said coldly.

"You'll kiss him now," Snape said, and, as if to demonstrate, he moved around Harry, and, still moving his fingers inside of Harry, he kissed him, slow and sweet, using his tongue. Harry melted into it, rocking back against the fingers inside of him and eagerly kissing Snape back. Snape finally broke the kiss and kept his eyes on Harry, but addressed Lupin. "He's ours now, Lupin. He'll let us do anything to him. But he wants a kiss, and you will give it to him."

"I'm not--" Harry began, but Snape kissed him again, and he forgot what he was going to say. 

Snape broke the kiss pulled out his fingers. Harry was about to protest, but Snape was moving--he guided Harry firmly over to Lupin, who was looking at Snape with such a cold look in his eyes that Harry looked down. He found himself looking at Lupin's cock, which was jutting out from his robes, hard as ever. 

"Tell him, Potter," Snape whispered in his ear. "Tell him what you want."

"I--" Harry said. He couldn't remember much right now. He wanted Lupin to look at him and call him _good boy_ \--

"Will you get on your hands and knees for Professor Lupin, Potter?"

Harry nodded--it was such a simple thing--of course he would do it--and he started to kneel down, but Snape's hands gripped his shoulders and kept him standing up.

"Do you want Professor Lupin to kiss you first, Potter?"

"Yes," Harry said, even though he didn't really care about the order.

"Ask him," Snape whispered in Harry's ear.

"Please--please sir, would you kiss me?"

And suddenly, Professor Lupin was all over Harry, kissing his eyes, his cheeks, his neck, running his hands through his hair, then down his back, slipping his fingers in Harry's arse, then finally--finally--kissing Harry on the mouth. Harry whimpered and opened his mouth wide and did his best to kiss back--and it was wonderful, to feel wanted--

But before Harry was done with the kiss, Lupin pulled away, turned Harry around, and shoved him down on the floor. Harry was confused, but remembered that he was supposed to be on his hands and knees--but Lupin had already pushed his knees farther apart and knelt down over Harry and shoved his cock into Harry's arse.

It was shocking, even after everything that had happened tonight--but the most shocking thing, really, was how much _deeper_ Lupin's cock could get when Harry was in this position. It hurt, but not nearly as bad as it had when it had been Lupin and Snape's cocks both in him, and not even as bad as when it had been the pestle. And Harry was starting to think that he really liked this particular kind of hurting, anyway. When Lupin pulled out and shoved back in, Harry shoved his own arse back to meet him halfway. It sparked that spot inside of Harry, and he cried out. Then Lupin growled and did it again, and Harry did it again, too, and they worked together that way, faster and faster, until Harry couldn't keep up the rhythm, so he sank down to his elbows, arse still in the air, and let Lupin do all the work. But then a hand was in his hair, yanking his head up. 

"Potter," Snape said, and Harry looked up to see Snape's cock, just in front of his face, and Snape's hand--the one not gripping his hair--was working his cock furiously.

It should have been weird, probably, but instead it was...mesmerising. "Pro--profess--sir," Harry stuttered, as Lupin continued to pound into his arse, and Harry couldn't take his eyes off Snape's cock as he wanked, right there, right in front of Harry, and Lupin hit that spot again, and--

"Oh," Harry said, and Snape tightened his grip on Harry's hair and came. The mess shot all over Harry's face. It should have been weird, but instead it made Harry come instantly, his arse clenching around Lupin's cock, and Lupin's movements became more desperate and he howled and came, too.

Harry went limp and felt rubbery and worn-out, and not a little sore, but so, so...

He didn't know what he felt, really. He was barely aware of his own limbs, let alone his feelings. _This should be weird,_ he thought. But it wasn't so much weird as it was...unexpected?--

But then he realised that he was naked on the floor of the Potions classroom and Lupin was licking Snape's come off his face. Harry turned slightly, and met Lupin's mouth with his own. And Lupin, _thank goodness_ , kissed Harry back eagerly. He tasted odd--like Snape's come, Harry supposed, which tasted a lot like Lupin's come, but different somehow--smokier, maybe? Then Lupin broke the kiss and continued to lick Harry's face. 

"Christ," Snape said. And then he stood up gingerly and tucked himself away into his robes. He rolled his shoulders, and looked down at Harry, catching him staring. But Harry couldn't look away. Snape suddenly looked like...Professor Snape again--and that was the single weirdest thing that had happened all evening. _That man had been Harry's first kiss._ Meanwhile, Lupin started licking Harry's neck.

"What do you say, Potter?" Snape said, in his bored voice again.

Harry wasn't sure, but he tried to guess. "Thank you, Professor."

"Not to me," Snape snapped. "What do you say to Professor Lupin, Potter?"

"Thank you, sir," Harry said dutifully, still not looking away from Snape.

Lupin touched Harry's face, and kissed his lips tenderly. "Don't tell your friends," he said. "And come back to us tomorrow night."

Harry looked back at Snape. "Yes, sir," Harry whispered. Snape narrowed his eyes and walked away. Harry sighed. It would have been nice to be called a "good boy" again.

*

After Harry left, Remus felt doubt settle in. "What have we done, Severus?" Remus whispered.

"We just thoroughly debauched a thirteen-year-old boy," Severus said easily. "And we liked it, and we'll probably do it again tomorrow."

"I won't," Remus said.

Severus just looked at him.

"I won't," Remus repeated. "That was James's son, Severus. I held him when he was a baby."

"And you have now come inside his arse, as well as in his mouth."

"Stop it."

"You've put your tongue in his arse."

Remus rubbed his face.

"And then you kissed him," Severus said. "Because he begged you to."

"That's Lily's son, too, you know."

"And Lily is dead," Severus said harshly. "As is James. And Harry is alive."

"Harry is thirteen."

Severus snorted. "Your guilt always arrives late to the party, Lupin. Potter will be back here tomorrow night. Feel free to spend the evening in your own office, if you wish. I will, of course, not turn away your company, any more than I will turn away Potter's."

"You _enjoyed_ raping him," Remus spat.

Severus moved for the first time since Harry left, and grabbed Remus around the throat. "I did," he growled. "You enjoyed it, too. He even _thanked_ us, afterwards."

Remus gasped, and Severus let go of his throat. "Go," Severus said. "Take your crisis of conscience and leave these rooms."

"You intend to rape him again?"

"I intend to take whatever he offers."

And the impact of what they'd done hit Remus in the chest. "He'll offer anything," he said shakily.

Snape flashed a deadly smile. "He will. And as I say, I will take it."


	2. Reinforcement

Potter arrived at Severus's rooms at eight o'clock the next night. Severus barely looked up from where he sat at his desk. "Close the door, Potter."

The boy did.

"Lock the door, Potter," Severus said.

Potter hesitated slightly, then locked the door behind him, then stood facing Severus, shifting from foot to foot.

"Well?" Severus said coldly. "Why are you still wearing your robes?"

Potter blinked, but removed his robes, and then removed the rest of his clothing without prompting.

"Come lay down on my desk." Potter didn't hesitate, but seemed unsure of exactly what Severus meant. "On your back," Severus clarified. "With your legs toward me." Potter obeyed without touching Severus. Then the boy bit his lips. 

Severus felt himself growing hard in anticipation. "Pull your knees up to your armpits," he commanded roughly. Potter did so, spreading his legs beautifully, and Severus had a full view of Potter's arse.

"Did you like what we did yesterday, Potter?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry said.

"I liked it, too," Severus said. "I'm going to do the same thing to you tonight." Potter just blinked up at the ceiling, so Severus asked, "Would you like to say anything first?"

"Erm, where's Professor Lupin, Professor?"

Severus smirked at Harry, and ran a cold hand down the back of Harry's thigh. "He felt guilty, Harry," Severus purred. "He felt guilty about kissing you." Harry looked confused and--maybe--devastated for a moment, and Severus quickly cast a lubrication charm on his hand and shoved two fingers into the boy's arsehole.

Potter's expression changed quickly to surprise. "Wha--what?" Potter choked out.

Severus used his fingers and tongue to take Harry apart. It was gloriously easy--one flick of the tongue here, one twist of the knuckles there, and Harry whined and dropped one of his legs. "Keep hold of your legs, boy!" Severus barked, and Potter scrambled to pull his knee back up.

"But--Professor--Lupin--"

"He wanted to share you tonight, Harry," Severus said. "You made him feel so good last night, and he was so happy, but then you asked him to kiss you." Severus pulled his fingers out of Harry, and shoved his cock inside the boy in one rough push. The boy cried out and tensed up, but didn't drop his knees. Severus stilled for a moment. "Take it, Harry. You can take it. You're a good boy. You like my cock, you like it. Say it."

"I--I like it," Potter choked.

Severus grinned, and pulled out slightly just to thrust back in. "Say it again."

"I like it," Potter said again.

"You like my cock in your arse?"

"Y--yes."

Severus pulled almost all of the way out, then thrust in again. "Do you wish Lupin's cock was in your arse, too?"

Potter sobbed.

"Do you want Lupin's cock, too, Potter?" Severus demanded, and thrust in again. 

"Yes..."

Severus caught hold of one of Harry's ankles and bit down on it, hard, as he thrust in again and again. Harry moaned. "What will you do, Potter? What will you do to get Lupin's cock back in your arse?"

"I won't--" Harry's arse clenched around Severus. "I won't ask him to kiss me again," Potter breathed, and Severus smirked.

"Good boy," Severus said, and pounded into the boy with abandon. He tugged on the boy's cock roughly, and bit down on whatever skin he could reach. He tasted blood when he bit the boy's shoulder, and Harry came with a cry. Severus grabbed the boy's hips and thrust in blindly until his body found its own release, and then he slumped over, not caring about his weight on the boy. But when the boy started gasping for breath, Severus shifted slightly.

"Professor?"

"Hm," Severus said.

Potter took a breath and blew it out. "Do you feel guilty when you kiss me?" he asked in a rush.

Severus laughed. "Potter, Lupin is delicate in a way that I am not." He leaned over, and licked the bloody bite on Harry's shoulder, then kissed the boy full on the mouth. Potter responded enthusiastically. Severus pulled away. "Ask me anything. I'll give it to you, or deny it, but I won't feel guilty either way."

"Erm, Professor?" Harry asked, and Severus looked at him blandly. "What--what's rape?"

Severus smirked. "I could try to show you, but chances are you'd like it."

"Can boys be raped, then?"

Severus ran a hand down the boy's hairless chest and pinched a nipple. Potter yelped. "Roll over, Potter," Severus said.

Harry did, and laid on the desk on his belly, with his arse right on the edge. Severus's come was still leaking out of Harry's hole. Severus blinked at it. Any doubts he'd had about his own ability to perform again so soon were quickly put to rest. "I'm going to try to rape you, Harry. Only you can tell me if I succeed," he purred.

Harry made an uncertain sound, and Severus slapped him on the thighs. "Don't make any noise," he commanded. Then he leaned down and bit Harry hard on the arse, and shoved three fingers inside of him. Harry whined and wiggled, and Severus slapped the boy's thigh again. "Don't move, and don't make noise," he said harshly, and fucked Harry hard with his fingers. Harry nodded, and Severus slapped his thighs again. Harry groaned and wiggled, whether trying to get closer to Severus's fingers or to seek friction on his cock, Severus didn't know. Either way, Severus decided to be as cruel as possible. " _Petrificus_ ," he whispered, and Harry's body went rigid. Severus continued to fuck Harry with his fingers, but he didn't like that he got no response from Harry's completely still body. "Harry," he said. "I'm going to remove the spell. I need you to try to be still, do you hear me? I can't possibly rape you if you move. _Finite_."

Harry let out a harsh breath, but surprised Severus by not moving very much. Tired of waiting, Severus yanked his fingers out of Harry and quickly lined up his cock and rammed into the boy's arse. Harry grunted, and Severus reached forward and pulled the boy's hair, yanking his head back. Harry let out a startled yelp.

"Stop making noise!" Severus commanded, and shoved Harry's head forward, possibly hitting it on the desk. He continued to thrust into Harry, and slap him and bite him and pinch him and scratch him and _hurt_ him however he could. Harry's only response was to moan and arch his back. Severus grabbed the boy by the hips and thrust without any art and came with a shout. 

Severus fell back into his chair, panting. Harry rolled gingerly onto his side and looked at Severus with owlish eyes.

"Was--was that rape?" Harry asked in a low voice.

"What do you think?" Severus shot back.

Potter bit his lips. "It...it didn't seem that different from..." Harry trailed off and shrugged.

Severus smirked. "No?" he said.

"I--I think I'd like it better if I could move more."

Severus laughed and gestured at the boy's sticky ejaculate on the table. "And yet you seemed to have enjoyed it enough. Regardless, your pleasure is beside the point. It's rape."

Harry looked away. "Does...does it...erm--" Severus stared at him with a bored look on his face. The boy glanced at him and blurted, "Can you rape me if I'm facing you? Or is it only rape if I'm face-down?"

Severus gave a feral grin, and leaned in to whisper. "Harry," he said, and ran a finger down the boy's chest and belly, and swirled it in the sticky mess there. Severus brought his finger to his lips and tasted the boy's come. Potter shuddered and Severus dropped his hand and grinned broadly. " _Everything_ that has happened here has been rape," he said.

Potter looked confused.

"Don't trouble yourself," Severus said. "As long as you keep coming to my rooms at night, I will continue to rape you. If you insist, I will rape you while you face me."

Potter frowned. "Do--do you like it?"

Severus reached over and grabbed Harry's face, forcing the boy to look at him. "Very much," he said silkily.

Harry swallowed. "Lupin doesn't like it, does he?"

Severus bared his teeth. "Lupin enjoys it a great deal. He just likes to think he's above it."

"He won't come here tonight, will he?"

The boy was so easy, it was criminal. If Severus had only realised this years before, Potter's schooling up to this point would not have been nearly so painful. "Lupin will come, if you apologise to him the right way," Severus said. Potter looked hopeful, so Severus continued, "You'll have to do as I say, and it will probably hurt you."

"I can take it," the boy said firmly.

"Good," Severus purred. "Roll over on your stomach."

Potter did so for the second time that night, but this time Severus was confronted with dark hand prints on the boy's upper thighs, and bite marks and scratches on his shoulders and back. The sight stopped Severus short, and though he hadn't meant to, he caressed the boy's back and arse. "You're beautiful, Harry," he said. 

"Th--thanks?" Potter said, and Severus chuckled. Keeping one hand on the boy's back, Severus opened his desk drawer and pulled out his largest marble pestle--the one from the previous night. He hadn't put it back with his other supplies--he wasn't a sentimental man by any means, but he'd been hoping that another such opportunity would present itself. He cast a lubrication charm on the pestle as he hefted it in his hand.

"If Lupin were here," Severus said, "he'd remind you to breathe." This was all the warning he gave before he started the task of working the pestle inside the boy's hole.

"Oh!" Potter yelped. "No--not--please--"

The boy tried to raise himself, but Severus held him firmly down with his free hand. The thickest part of the pestle was already past the ring of muscle, and Severus kept at his task.

"Hurts--" the boy said.

"I told you it would. You can take it, Harry."

Harry whimpered and writhed.

"This is for Lupin, Harry. Remember how much he liked this?"

Harry nodded into the desk, and Severus twisted the pestle. Harry yelped.

"Good boy," Severus said. The pestle was almost in, and the boy started to relax against it. "You can like this, you just have to let yourself."

Harry sobbed, and Severus felt himself growing hard again. He had the pestle all the way in.

"Are you okay, Harry?"

Harry nodded into the desk, which wasn't good enough for Severus. He twisted the pestle, earning a gasp from Harry, and said, "Tell me. Tell me you're okay, Harry."

"I'm--I'm okay."

"Do you like it, Harry?" The boy hesitated, and Severus started to work the pestle slowly back and forth. The boy sobbed again. Severus leaned forward and licked the nape of the boy's neck, then bit down hard enough to bruise, but not enough to break the skin. He continued to work the pestle. "Do you like feeling so full? Are you willing to endure the pain if it makes Lupin feel better?"

"Ye--yes, Professor."

Severus grinned. "Good boy," he whispered. He kept working the pestle until the boy was moaning as often as he was sobbing. As an experiment, Severus held the pestle still. He waited a few moments, and then Harry made the slightest of movements, grinding himself back against the pestle. Severus laughed. "Good boy, Harry."

Harry breathed, "Y--yes sir."

Severus worked the pestle cruelly, causing Harry to cry out, and Severus had to use his hand again to keep the boy face-down on the desk. Severus pumped the pestle almost all the way out, then all the way in, keeping his rhythm slightly fast but steady for several minutes, until the boy stopped fighting and gave into it. "This is punishment, Harry," Severus said coldly. "You called me 'sir.'" This time, when Severus pushed the pestle in, he jiggled it slightly.

The boy gasped. "Sorry, Professor."

"Good boy, Harry." Severus purred. He jiggled the pestle again, and Harry moaned sinfully. _Christ_. He'd already come twice tonight, but he'd do well to wait until Remus joined them to have a third go. He finally let go of Harry and took the chance to squeeze the base of his own cock. "You're a good boy, Harry," he repeated as he did up his robes. "Are you ready for me to fetch Professor Lupin?"

Harry didn't move from the desk, but nodded. "Yes, sir," he mumbled.

Severus froze, and Harry realised his mistake a moment afterwards. "I mean--" Harry tried to say, but Severus swatted his arse with his bare hand. The _smack_ was delicious, and the fact that it disturbed the pestle inside of Harry was exquisite. The noise the boy made indicated that he agreed.

"Stand up, Harry," Severus said, in the most bored voice he could manage.

Harry gingerly scooted back on the desk and planted his feet on the floor, then made rather a meal of making himself upright. Severus had to force himself to keep his hands off the boy. He Summoned Harry's robes, but not his clothes. "Put these on," he ordered.

Harry, who seemed a bit dazed, said, "But my clothes?"

Severus purred, "The only thing I want you wearing underneath that robe is this." And, not able to keep his hands to himself any longer, he reached down and caressed the knob of the pestle. Harry's eyes rolled back slightly and he clutched onto Severus, but he kept himself upright. 

"Y--yes, Professor," he choked, and moved to put his robes on--slowly, tortuously. He kept his eyes on the floor.

The boy was _beautiful_.

"I'm going to summon Professor Lupin, now," Severus said, and was surprised at how rough his voice was. "Be careful what you say to him, and remember not to ask him for anything. Come. Stand in front of my desk."

The boy moved stiffly to where Severus had indicated, and Severus rewarded him with a gentle kiss. He pulled back and caressed Harry's face. The boy closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. "Remember to always call him 'sir,'" Severus reminded. 

Then he Floo-called Remus. "Lupin," he said. "A word." Then he waited.

After about ten seconds, Potter started to shift uncomfortably. "He's not coming, is he?"

Severus shrugged as if he didn't know, but he thought Lupin's willpower wouldn't last a minute, especially not this close to the full moon. Sure enough, Lupin soon came through the Floo.

Lupin glanced at Harry and almost flinched away. He refocused on Severus. "Severus, I told you--"

"You're not here for me, Lupin. You're here for the boy."

Lupin cast a very quick look in Harry's direction and his face contorted. "Severus, I will not be party to this abuse."

Severus saw that Harry looked like he was about to cry, which played into his hands perfectly. "Lupin, don't make the boy feel any worse," he hissed. Lupin looked at Harry again, and his face softened. Severus said, "I think he wants to tell you something." He nodded at Harry, who bit his lips.

"I--I'm sorry, sir," Harry said miserably.

Lupin melted. "No, Harry, why are you sorry?"

"I didn't mean--I shouldn't have asked you to--asked for anything, sir." Harry kept his eyes down, which Severus thought was a nice touch. 

Not able to help himself, Lupin took several steps over to Harry. "No, Harry, what are you talking about?"

Harry looked at Lupin. "I--I won't ask you to do anything, sir. I'll do whatever you ask, and I won't make you do anything, sir. Please don't be mad at me, sir."

Lupin pulled Harry into a hug. "No, Harry, no, I'm not mad at you at all, you mustn't think that!" Harry sobbed into Lupin's chest, and Lupin ran his hands up and down Harry's back. And then Severus saw one of Lupin's hands dip lower, then move back up to the boy's shoulders. Then the hand moved down again--lower this time--then back up. The next time, Lupin's hand went down Harry's spine with purpose, and Harry gasped when Lupin (no doubt) hit the end of the pestle. Lupin looked sharply at Severus. "What did you do, Severus?"

Severus shrugged. "Merely got him ready for you."

Lupin angrily tore off Harry's robes and turned the naked boy around. He was presented with a vision of bite marks and scratches and hand prints and, just peaking out of the boy's arse, the small end of a very large marble pestle. Lupin was suddenly enraged. He roughly shoved Harry away, and Harry fell to the floor with a cry. 

"I WON'T RAPE HIM AGAIN, SEVERUS!" Lupin roared.

Harry sobbed, and Severus almost felt bad for him. "He thinks you're angry with him, Lupin."

"I don't care!"

"Look at Harry, Lupin." For Harry had shakily pushed himself to his hands and knees. Lupin looked at Harry with something akin to horror.

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry choked. "I won't ask for anything. I'll do anything you want, though. Anything, sir, please." And Harry started to crawl towards Lupin with the pestle still in his arse.

Severus almost came on the spot. Lupin, for his part, could not have stood more still had he suddenly grown roots.

"Please, sir," Harry said, as he reached Lupin. "I'll do anything you want, just name it, sir." Harry knelt in front of Lupin and clutched at his robes. "Do you want me to lick it again, sir?"

Lupin worked his mouth a few times before he whispered a barely audible "No, Harry."

"Please," Harry said again. "Please don't be mad at me, sir."

Harry made such a beautiful submissive. Severus never would have guessed, but was thrilled with the discovery.

"What are your intentions toward the boy?" Severus asked. He was ready to proceed with the evening, and had grown tired of Lupin's dithering.

"I--I can't face him, Severus."

Severus gave a predatory smile. "Then I will have that pleasure," he said, and undid his robes and pulled out his aching cock. He went over to Harry to help him up. "Up you get," he said, and once Harry was standing, Severus picked him up and wrapped the boy's skinny legs around him. He settled his hands under Harry's arse and played with the end of the pestle as he walked over to the desk. Harry writhed and bucked and moaned. Severus settled himself on the desk and arranged Harry, and pumped the pestle in and out a few times. "You know what I'm going to do next, Harry?" he asked. 

"Ye--what about--what about Lupin, Professor?"

Severus kissed Harry's forehead. "Don't worry about Lupin, Harry." He pulled the pestle all the way out, then shoved it back in again. He repeated the motion again and again, and then once more as he locked eyes with Lupin, who stared back hungrily.

Severus pulled the pestle out and finally, finally guided the boy onto his cock. The boy was loose and hot and he let out a puff of air as he settled onto Severus. Severus had to close his eyes and grit his teeth, but didn't stop the boy from grinding his arse onto Severus's cock, and burying his face in Severus's chest. Severus ran his hands over Harry's back and glanced at Lupin. Lupin was forcing himself to look away. Severus spoke to him in a rough voice, "If you care to join us, you'd better do it soon."

Lupin looked at him, and Severus saw more of the wolf than the man. Severus smiled, knowing that Lupin had lost his inner fight. He caressed the boy's back again, moving his hands lower and pulling apart his arse cheeks invitingly.

Lupin growled and moved so quickly that it almost startled Severus. The wolf had his cock out and shoved it all the way into Harry with a growl.

Harry screamed, and Severus cast a wandless _Silencio_ on the boy. Harry panicked and scrambled to get away, but Severus held him down, and was surprised that Lupin also kept a tight hold on the boy. Lupin had control of the pace, and he set a brutal one without giving Harry time to adjust. Severus didn't spare much thought for worrying about the boy, as Lupin's cock rubbed against his in the impossibly tight, wet heat of Potter's arse.

"Is--this--what--you--wanted?" Lupin asked between thrusts.

Severus couldn't speak, so he just grinned and reached around to pull Lupin awkwardly closer. This may have dislodged Harry, but Lupin's hands kept him in place. The boy had gone limp between them. Lupin kissed Severus over the boy's shoulder, but then pulled back as if shocked. 

"What?" Severus asked.

"His blood--" Lupin had stopped thrusting for a moment, but then started again--was it more quickly, or what that Severus's imagination?--he couldn't hold out much longer--"His--blood--and--come--in--your--mouth--Christ--Sev--" And Lupin leaned in and kissed Severus deeply, licking and nipping inside his mouth, and his cock rubbing up against Severus and both of them enveloped by the young son of James Potter--Severus came with a shout as Lupin sucked his tongue. Then finally the wolf gave up pretence, and bit down on Harry's shoulder. When he tasted blood, he came with a howl.

"Fuck," Severus said, as they panted. His entire body was shaking, so he laid back flat on the desk. Lupin rather fell with him, with Harry still between them. Harry still hadn't made a sound, but then Severus remembered the spell. "Harry," he said, and turned the boy to face him. 

Harry was glassy-eyed and covered in a sheen of sweat. Severus frowned. " _Finite_ ," he whispered, but of course this changed nothing about the boy's appearance. "Harry?" he said again.

Harry blinked once, and Severus did his best to look the boy over from his awkward position. His shoulder oozed blood slowly from Lupin's bite, but that wasn't worrisome--he'd seen Greyback bite plenty of people while not transformed and knew that there were no dire consequences for such a wound. He reached down to Harry's arse. Severus's own cock had slipped out when he'd laid back, but Lupin was still in and half-hard. 

"Mmm," Lupin said when he felt Severus's questing hand, and gave a few more lazy thrusts. "I don't think I'm ready again, Sev."

"Stop it," Severus commanded, and pulled his hand to where he could see it. _Blood_. Quite a bit of blood. "Move, Lupin, and for god's sake, take your cock out of the boy's arse." Lupin hummed again, and rolled over awkwardly onto the table. Even from this angle, Severus could see that Lupin's cock was covered in lube and semen and blood. "Shit," Severus said, and gingerly rolled Harry over. Harry didn't even whimper; he was still completely limp. Severus found his wand and cast a quick healing charm, then a few diagnostic charms. "Shit," he said again, and summoned a book from his shelf.

"What's wrong, Severus?" Lupin asked. 

"Oh, I don't know, Remus," Severus said nastily as he flipped through the book, trying to find the spell he vaguely remembered. "Maybe when two grown men shove their penises into the rectum of a prepubescent boy, maybe those men should go about it MORE GENTLY!"

Lupin's eyes got hard, but he hadn't seemed to notice that Harry was in any distress. "I was raping him, Severus. As we did last night. As you have done more than once tonight."

Severus bared his teeth at the wolf. "There are, of course, _degrees_ to this sort of thing. Not all rape needs to leave the boy bleeding."

Lupin noticed Harry's still form for the first time. "Harry?" Lupin asked quietly.

"'m okay, sir," Harry mumbled. But Lupin's eyes darted from Harry's still-bleeding arse to his own cock.

"Harry, you're hurt," Lupin said.

"'m fine, sir."

Severus snorted, but he found the spell he was looking for. He read it over--yes, yes this would do nicely. He walked over to Harry and cast the charm.

Harry cried out uncertainly and writhed a bit. "Hold still, Harry," Severus said as he cast another diagnostic charm. This one came back negative. Severus relaxed and looked over at Lupin. "Any worse than that, and you would have had the dubious pleasure of explaining his injuries to Madam Pomfrey."

Lupin looked stricken, and Harry noticed. Severus could almost feel the boy withdrawing into himself.

"No!" Severus said angrily at Lupin. "You may rape him, but you may _not_ make him feel bad afterwards. Harry, tell Lupin how you feel."

"I'm--I'm fine, Professor."

"No, Harry, tell Lupin."

Harry glanced at the wolf and choked back a sob. "I'm sorry, sir."

Lupin started to say something, but Severus cut him off. "Tell him why you're sorry, Potter."

"I--I don't know! But he's sad and angry and I thought he wanted to do that!"

Again, Lupin tried to speak, but Severus spoke over him. "Did you want to do that, Harry?"

Harry looked at Lupin nervously. "If he did," he said.

Severus gave Lupin a hard look. "Did you want fuck Harry's arse with me, Lupin? Or did the boy just make you do something you didn't like?"

"Severus--" Lupin spluttered, "that's not--that's not--"

"Did Harry just endure that so that you could _feel bad_ afterwards? Or did you like it, when our cocks were tearing into the arse of the son of James Potter?"

"Of course I liked it," Lupin said, defeated.

"No. Tell Harry."

Harry was trembling all over, and Lupin pulled the boy into a hug. He kissed the top of the boy's head and caressed his back. "Of course I liked it, Harry. Of course I liked it."

"You can do it again, if you want," Harry said, and Severus couldn't contain his grin. Luckily, Lupin didn't notice. He was too busy brushing the fringe off of Harry's face.

"Did you like it, Harry?" Lupin asked.

Harry hesitated again. "If you did," he said.

"Did it hurt you?"

Harry shrugged.

"Do you want to do it again?"

"Yes," Harry said firmly.

Severus decided to help the boy out. "Is there something else you'd rather do, Harry?"

"Erm--I--I like it better when it's just one of you. Inside. At a time." Severus raised an eyebrow at the boy. "I--it's okay if one of you is in my mouth and the other one is in my arse. I mean, I liked that, last night. And if you both want in my arse, that's okay, too, I can do that, too, I can--"

"Stop, Harry," Lupin said, and kissed the boy on the mouth. Harry froze up, then responded enthusiastically. Severus watched Lupin's hands run all over the boy's back and arse, then caress Harry's hole. Harry ground his arse against Lupin's hand. Lupin broke the kiss and looked at Severus. "Is he healed completely? Is it okay if I..."

Severus shrugged. It was probably a good idea to wait, but he felt like they needed to end the evening on a better note than raping Harry until he bled out of his rectum and risked sepsis. So he asked, "Harry, how does your arse feel?"

"Er--erm--it doesn't ache, Professor. It feels--" Severus and Lupin both waited long seconds for Harry to complete his thought. "I feel empty," the boy finally said, and Lupin growled again.

"Harry," he said, and slipped a finger inside the boy's arse--then two, then three. "Alright, Harry? Is that better?" 

"Ye--y--more--"

"I have an idea," Severus said, not able to hold himself back any longer. "Harry, get up on the desk and pull your knees up."

Harry looked back at Severus, dazed, as Lupin continued to work his fingers.

"Harry?" Severus repeated.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Get on the desk. Pull your knees up."

"Like--like before?"

Lupin bit down on the boy's collarbone, and Harry gasped. 

"Yes, Harry. Like before. I think Lupin would like to see you like that."

Harry pulled away from Lupin, stumbling slightly as Lupin's hand fell away, but he laid dutifully on the desk and pulled up his legs. The men could do nothing but stare at him for a few moments. "Is this--is this okay?" Harry said uncertainly.

"Oh, Harry," Lupin said, and moved over to Harry as if pulled there. "You--you--" And he licked up Harry's inner thigh and lined up his cock and pushed in. Harry groaned.

"Is this--" Lupin choked--"Is this okay, Harry? Does it still feel good?"

"Yes--just--anything, please--anything--"

Severus moved behind Lupin and shoved up his robes. "I'm not going to prepare you," he purred in his ear. "But, slavering beast that you are, I know you prefer it like that." Severus did, at least, cast a lubrication charm on his cock before he shoved it inside of Lupin. Lupin groaned and panted, but held still. Severus squeezed his eyes tight and focused on not losing himself too quickly. When he was ready, he said, "Now, I will set the pace. I will show you how to gently fuck Harry, do you understand me?"

Lupin nodded.

"Don't come too soon," he whispered, and he reached around between Lupin and Harry, and squeezed the base of Lupin's cock. Lupin whimpered as Severus pulled slowly, slowly out of Lupin and Lupin pulled slowly, slowly out of Harry. Then Severus pushed in just as slowly, and kept pushing until Lupin was flush against Harry again. All three of them moaned, and Severus's cock twitched, and he felt Remus's twitch in his own hand. "All right, Harry?"

Harry hadn't let go of his legs. He nodded.

"Touch the boy, Lupin."

It seemed that Remus tried, but couldn't get a good angle in all the arms and legs. Severus made another slow thrust as Remus made the attempt. 

"Harry," Remus gasped. "Can you reach your cock?" Harry looked confused. "I'll hold your legs, love, don't worry--can you reach your cock?"

"S--Sir?"

"It's okay, Harry," Severus said, and groaned as he made another slow thrust into Remus and, by extension, into the boy. "You can touch yourself." He nipped at Lupin's neck because it was right there and _beautiful_ and he made another thrust, possibly faster than the last time, but as slow as he could manage.

Harry sobbed beneath them. "Could you--could you do it faster, Professor?"

Lupin's body jerked, but he held himself in check. Severus squeezed Lupin's cock and forced himself to do another slow thrust.

Lupin groaned. "Severus--Severus, the boy is ours."

"Yesssss," Severus purred, and luxuriated in the torture of another slow thrust.

"He'll do anything we ask of him," Remus gasped.

"He will," Severus said as he pulled out one more time.

"He wants you to go faster."

Severus paused with the tip of his cock just being squeezed by the ring of muscle in Lupin's hole. And then he thrust in forcefully because he couldn't stand it. They all three groaned again. 

"Harry," Severus said. "Are you ours?"

Harry looked at Severus, then at Lupin, then back to Severus. "Yes, Professor."

Severus smiled and pulled out slowly, and pushed in slowly once more. Harry whimpered and Severus could feel the boy's hand working frantically on his own cock. "Will you do anything we say?"

Potter whined. "Anything, anything, Professor."

"Take your hand off your cock." Harry did, with barely any hesitation, considering. "Tell me what you want me to do, Potter."

Potter squirmed on Lupin's cock. The sensation was curious with Severus's hand right there, and Lupin groaned. "I--Can you do it faster, please Professor?"

"Do what faster, Harry?" Severus asked, and perversely did another slow thrust. He thought Remus might die in the meantime, but Harry just groaned again.

"That--can you do that faster?"

"You want me to fuck Remus faster?"

"Ye-yesss," Harry hissed, as Severus did another slow thrust. 

"How does that help you, Harry?"

"It--it feels good."

"It feels good when we fuck you faster?"

"Ye--yeah."

Severus thrust slowly again. "Say it, Harry. Tell me how good it feels when we fuck you fast. Tell me how you like it."

"I--I like it when you fuck me fast, Professor, please, please, fuck me faster--I can't--"

Remus growled and almost started without him, but Severus took over with authority, fucking hard and fast into Remus, and feeling Remus landing hard and fast into Harry. Severus moved his hands to grab Harry's upper thighs, to get better leverage. He sucked on Lupin's ear and thrust and thrust and thrust and _so close, oh Merlin, so close_ and he couldn't hang on any longer and he came with a roar, and Lupin was jerking his own orgasm underneath him, and Harry--well, Severus didn't notice Harry in that moment. Severus fell back and luckily found a chair to sit in, or else he would have fallen on the floor.

Lupin, he saw, wasn't so lucky, as the other man lay splayed out on the floor, panting. Harry was still on the desk, with his legs hanging limply off the edge.

Lupin covered his face. "How are you, Harry?" he asked through his hands.

Harry laughed breathlessly. "Er--good, yeah."

"You liked being raped that time?" Lupin said bitterly.

Harry looked at Severus, who raised an eyebrow at him.

"I think--I think I've liked being raped most every time, sir."

"Good," Lupin said. "Because I'd like to rape you again, soon."

Severus laughed. Harry seemed stunned, and got up from the desk gracelessly and fell over next to Lupin. "Anything--anything you want, sir."

Lupin ran a hand through Harry's hair. "You're mine, Harry."

"Yes, sir, and Professor Snape's."

Lupin let his hand drop. "I think we both belong to Professor Snape, honestly."

Severus laughed again, and Harry shrugged. Severus cast a cleaning charm on the boy and summoned his clothes. 

"Are you done, then?" Harry asked.

"Certainly not," Severus said. "But I've had enough for one night. Come back tomorrow."

"Yes, Professor," Harry said as he pulled on his clothes.

Severus looked at Lupin, still flat on the floor. He got an idea, and grinned as he summoned the pestle. He cast a cleaning charm on it and noticed Harry eyeing it warily. "You don't like this, do you, Harry?"

"Er--well--it hurts at first, and takes a while to get used to. But after a while I like it."

Severus grinned. "I want you to take this pestle, Harry, and carry it with you in your school bag all day tomorrow. You may touch it, but don't take it out. At eight o'clock tomorrow evening, while you are still in Gryffindor Tower, I want you to put it inside of your own arse, Harry." He paused, and Harry blinked at him. "The charm is _Lubricus_. Say it."

" _Lubricus_ ," Harry said dutifully.

"Good," Severus said. "Now cast it on my hand."

Harry did, and Severus smiled as his hand was coated in slick wetness. He wished for a moment that Harry wasn't already dressed, but then he banished the substance. "Use that charm, and work the pestle until it's comfortable, then come down to the dungeons. I want you wearing your robes, your shoes and socks, and this pestle. Nothing else. Do you understand me?"

Harry swallowed. "You--you want me to walk down all those stairs with--with that?"

"Very much so. Try not to get caught."

From the floor, Lupin moaned, "Jesus fuck, Severus."

Harry looked at Severus with wide eyes. "Yes, Professor," he said, and took the pestle from Severus. He stared at it in his hand, then put it in his pocket. 

Severus ran a gentle hand down the boy's face. "Harry," he said silkily. "You're beautiful." He leaned in close and whispered in the boy's ear. "I enjoy fucking you." He nipped at the boy's earlobe and quickly turned away, purposely ignoring the boy's reaction.

After Harry left, Lupin let out a shaky breath. "We should teach the boy a safe word."

Severus snorted. "You may, if you wish. For my part, I will fuck him through whatever safe word he chooses." Lupin looked at him in horror, and Severus shrugged at him. "We are raping him, Lupin. Don't teach him a safe word and pretend otherwise." Severus laughed as he remembered. "Besides, I cast a silencing charm on him--a safe word would have done him no good! And, after we'd held him down and ignored his screams and fucked into him and made him bleed--he offered to let us do it again!--What part of that boy's psyche makes you think he would ever consider using a safe word against your sexual urges--or mine?"

Lupin looked as if he'd been struck.

"He's ours, Lupin. If you don't wish to hurt him, then you must take care not to hurt him. If you do wish to hurt him, he will allow it and beg for more."

*

Harry had Defence Against the Dark Arts the next day. It was awkward; he didn't dare look at Professor Lupin. When he reached into his bag for his book, his hand brushed against the pestle and he flushed. Professor Lupin started class by apologising for not grading their homework. "Time just got away from me last night," Lupin said easily, and--if possible, Harry's face burned hotter. Luckily, Hermione didn't notice because she was more worried about not getting back a graded assignment, and Ron didn't notice because he was too happy about the temporary reprieve.

He somehow made it through class, and was just glad he didn't have Potions today. He definitely couldn't be in the same room as Snape, not with the _pestle_ in his bag.

In Transfiguration, though, when Harry was getting out his book, he allowed himself to run his hand over the pestle. It was very smooth and very cold. He shuddered and let it go.

At lunch, he felt like Professor Snape was looking at him, but every time he looked over, Snape was looking away. He resolved to not look at Snape again, but he could feel Snape's eyes all over him.

"Feeling okay, Harry?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, fine," Harry said, and tried to eat another potato.

Divination was right after lunch, and Harry made quite a production of finding his book in his bag. He held the pestle in his hand for as long as he dared.

Supper dragged on and on, and by the time they all got back to the common room, Harry still had half an hour left before eight o'clock. How angry would Snape be if Harry started early? Harry didn't want to find out, but still, he slipped the pestle from his bag into his pocket.

At five minutes till, Harry went up to his dorm and grabbed his Invisibility Cloak. He quickly stripped down naked except for his shoes and socks, then put his robes back on. At eight o'clock exactly, clutching the pestle and the Cloak, Harry went into the bathroom. He locked himself in a stall and held the pestle for a few moments. It was _heavy_. He closed his eyes. _Was he really going to do this?_

Yes. Yes, he absolutely was. He cast the charm Snape had taught him, then reached behind himself and started to push. 

Keeping quiet was an issue. Harry bit down on his free hand and kept pushing in with the other. He still groaned into his hand, then stifled it by biting down harder and pushing harder and finally, finally, something gave and Harry breathed a little bit as the hard part seemed to be over. He pushed in a little bit more, and almost cried out again as it _hurt_ much more than he expected. He paused and rested his head against the stall. 

Were Lupin and Snape going to fuck him again tonight? He tried not to think about it. He liked everything they did--even when Snape slapped and bit him, it still felt _good_ somehow--but when Snape and Lupin were both inside him--it hurt a _lot_. Harry supposed that he should enjoy it, since both of them clearly liked it so much. Determined, he pushed the pestle in further, and ignored the incredible pressure. He pushed, and pushed, and pushed, and finally, finally, the ball end was against his hole.

Harry rested his head against the stall again, and noticed he was sweating. He breathed in and out as quietly as he could and tried to relax. He liked Lupin's cock, long and hard and with a slight lean at the end of it. Lupin's cock inside his arse was nice. Harry pulled the pestle out slightly, then wiggled it around and shoved it back in. He hit that place inside of himself and gasped, and bit down again on his hand. He liked Snape's cock, which was as hard as the rest of him, and huge and stuck out from him in a straight line. He liked how Snape moved inside of him, like Harry finally belonged somewhere. He pulled the pestle almost all of the way out, and bit down hard on his hand. He wiggled it right there, which was maybe too much, but he was brave, wasn't he? Was he going to quit because it hurt? No. He wiggled it again, then pushed it back in. He took a determined breath and did it again. Then again. The third time was easier. The fourth time, Harry pulled it all the way out and shoved it in again. It hurt, but he could handle it. He worked the pestle and worked the pestle and worked the pestle, until the pleasure was much greater than the pain.

He took a breath and stood upright, then hunched back over. Well, maybe not _much_ greater than the pain.

He chuckled, slightly hysterically, then stood up slowly. Now, all he had to do was go down to the dungeons. He put on his Cloak and opened up the stall. 

He took a step. And then another. _Keep going._ Would Lupin and Snape both fuck him after this? _Don't think about it. Keep going._

No one was on the dormitory stairs, which was lucky. Harry took them as quickly as he could, but he had to keep stopping. He made it through the common room and through the portrait hole, where he had to stop for a minute. Walking was horrible. Could he crawl? He tried it, and though his robes and the Cloak made it difficult, it was much better than walking. He had to go slowly, but that was fine.

He paused at the top of the first staircase. Then he turned around and crawled down the stairs backwards. If Lupin wanted to fuck his arse at the same time as Snape, Harry wouldn't complain once. Maybe then they could do something different.

Harry lost count of the staircases. He had no idea how long it had been since he left Gryffindor Tower. He paused eventually to rest for a bit--and he realised with relief that he was on the first floor. His knees were hurting, and he reached around to play with the pestle. He realised that it hardly hurt anymore. He pulled it out and shoved it in again. His arse was almost numb. He wiggled the pestle and groaned. Well--almost numb, then. He tried to stand and was able to take a few shaky steps forward. 

Maybe, maybe, after this, maybe it would feel _good_ if Snape and Lupin both fucked his arse. His cock got hard, which made it more difficult to walk. When Harry got to the next staircase, he still crawled down it backwards.

Only one more staircase, he thought desperately. And Lupin and Snape would fuck him and then maybe he could feel his arse again, and maybe he would come, and they would say he was beautiful and kiss him, and tell him he was theirs--

\--And then he was down the last staircase, and he only had to go down the corridor to Snape's office. He couldn't walk another step, so he crawled.

He was sobbing by the time he reached the door. He didn't know why--his arse was numb, after all. He knocked desperately, and Snape answered and frowned at the empty corridor.

"Professor," Harry panted, and took off his hood.

Snape's eyes glittered. He said, "Take off that cloak and walk into this office like a man, Harry."

Harry did as he was told, and Snape slammed the door behind him. Lupin was already in the office.

"Harry," Snape said from behind Harry, and pulled off Harry's robes. In front of him, Lupin cast a spell that removed Harry's shoes and socks. "We've been waiting for you," Snape said, as he pushed Harry forward, bending him over a student table, and pulled the pestle out of his arse and buried his cock in there instead. 

"Oh, god," Harry said as Snape thrust in. "Oh, god, I need more."

"Of course you do, Harry, of course you do."

Harry wasn't even sure who was talking, but Lupin was in front of Harry with his cock out. "Can--you both--"

But Snape had already pulled out of Harry, sat back against the table, and tugged Harry into his lap. Harry clumsily tried to straddle him, but Snape did most of the work as he pushed his cock back into Harry and moved his legs where they needed to be. Lupin had moved very quickly so that he was behind Harry, and _he was right there please not too fast but please get in me do it_ and the pressure was intense but Harry didn't fight it as Lupin slid slowly inside. 

God. _God._

"Please," Harry said. "Please, I can like this, I can, please, just go slow at first."

Snape laughed and pinched Harry's nipple--which was-- _god_ \--

Harry squirmed, and Lupin groaned. "We can't go slow if you keep doing that, Harry."

Then Snape pinched _both_ of Harry's nipples, and _twisted_ , and Harry blindly reached for his own cock.

"You like that, Harry?" Snape said, in that _voice_ , and Harry whimpered. "Tell me if you like it, Harry."

"I do, please--"

And Lupin started to thrust slowly behind him, and Harry fell forward onto Snape's chest. Then Lupin thrust again, and Harry ground back against it--and--and--

"Christ," Snape said, just as Lupin said, "Fuck." Harry grinned and did it again.

Snape pulled his hair to get him to stop. "Stop it, you uncultured youth. We're trying to rape you." 

"Maybe--" Harry said boldly, and wiggled his hips again, even as Snape pulled his hair harder. "Maybe I'm raping you tonight, Professor."

"Fuck," Lupin said again, and started to pound into Harry, and it barely even hurt. Mostly, it was just a relief.

Snape looked dazed beneath him. And Harry decided that after everything he had gone through to get here tonight, he was going to ask for what he wanted. He tugged at Snape's hair. "Professor--" he said, in time with Lupin's thrusts, "touch--me--"

And Snape's hands were all over Harry--really all over him--and Harry didn't know how it was possible until he realised that Lupin's hands were there too, pumping his cock, touching his cheek, pulling his nipples, slapping his thigh--and he was full--so full--and Snape was looking at him, and Harry put his fingers in Snape's mouth, and Snape sucked them in eagerly, and Lupin thrust and thrust and thrust and--

\--And Harry came, with both men's cocks still inside of him. It hurt as his arse contracted, and he shot come all over Snape's belly, and Lupin and Snape made odd noises as they both came.


	3. Things are clarified, but not understood

Harry didn't go to Snape's rooms every night, but he went at least a couple of times a week. Sometimes he was just fucked by Snape, on rare occasions he was just fucked by Lupin, and once, Lupin and Snape just wanted Harry to watch them fuck. _That_ was a tortuous night.

But mostly, Snape and Lupin both fucked Harry in creative ways. Harry stopped being surprised by it, until one evening he showed up and Snape offered him a vial of Polyjuice Potion. "I fancy fucking a girl tonight, as does Remus," he said, and Harry drank the potion and had the oddest night of his life--which was saying something--as both men sucked his sensitive tits (he had _tits_ ), and then Lupin fucked a slick hole that didn't even need lube (he had _extra holes_ that _lubed themselves_ ) while Snape fucked his impossibly tight arse using much more lube than usual. Harry came three times in a row, and even though he weed a little bit on Professor Lupin--which was highly embarrassing, but he wasn't used to coming _when he was a girl_ \--he was almost sad when he got his body back. But then Lupin sucked his cock and Snape rimmed him, so--Harry wasn't too disappointed.

He got used to sitting through Lupin's and Snape's classes without flushing, although Snape would sometimes say something in a particular tone of voice, and Harry would have to adjust his robes. Snape would always notice these occasions and give Harry a detention--sometimes to be served immediately after class. 

During one of these detentions, Snape stripped Harry naked and whipped him with a riding crop. This turned them both on so much that Snape fucked Harry against the wall and Harry came so hard he cried. Afterwards, while he still had Harry pressed face-first against the wall, Snape ran his fingers along the welts and cuts on Harry's back. Harry sucked in a breath and said without thinking, "I love you, Professor." 

Snape's hand stopped, and then he pulled away from Harry. Harry felt suddenly very naked. "Pro--Professor?" he stammered.

Without warning, Snape backhanded Harry so hard that it sent him tumbling.

Harry scrambled to his feet. He was scared; Snape was blocking the door. He looked at Snape, wishing he had some clothes.

"Don't worry, Potter," Snape said smoothly. "I'll still fuck you--and even beat you--any time you wish. But don't ask me to respect you in the morning."

Harry looked away and covered himself awkwardly with his hands, and Snape laughed cruelly. "Oh, _now_ is a fine time for modesty. Drop your hands, Potter."

Harry did so, uncertainly, and Snape hit him with his open hand again. Harry managed to keep his feet this time. "Do you like that, Harry?" Snape said. He grabbed the riding crop and started to use it mercilessly, and Harry tried to get out of the way, but Snape wrestled him to the floor and knelt down with one knee across the back of Harry's neck as he continued to whip, and whip, and whip Harry, and Harry couldn't stop it. "Does that turn you on?" Snape roared.

Harry sobbed, and Snape laughed. "Unfortunately for you, it _does_ turn me on," Snape said, and--moving around, but still holding Harry down on the floor, Snape shoved his cock back into Harry's arse. At least there was some come and lube left from the last time, but it was still rough, and Harry was scared and tense and he cried out.

" _Silencio_ ," Snape said, and Harry was truly scared now, and tried to fight, but Snape just held him down and fucked him, and fucked him, and fucked him, until he was finished. And Harry couldn't even make a noise of protest. When Snape pulled out of him and stood up, Harry stayed on the floor. Snape stood over him, panting. "Come to my rooms tonight," he said, finally. "The usual time." And he kicked Harry--on the hip so it didn't hurt as bad--but all the same, it hurt Harry very badly. " _Finite_ ," Snape hissed, and left Harry sobbing on the floor.

It never even occurred to him to stay in his dormitory that night. He went down to Snape's rooms, and Snape fucked him like always and Lupin fucked him like always, and Harry came like always, even if he was still a little afraid to look at Snape. He still called him 'Professor' at all times. At the end of the evening, Snape sent Lupin away but told Harry to stay. Then he tied Harry up to the ceiling, so that Harry had to stand on tiptoes, and then Snape licked and sucked every one of the marks he had left with the riding crop earlier, and made Harry sob once again, but for completely different reasons. Then he let Harry down, and fucked him into the floor, but almost gently this time. Harry came, face down on the stone-cold dungeon floor, with Snape's cock in his arse and Snape's tongue in his ear.

Harry didn't tell Ron or Hermione about any of these things. He didn't think they'd understand. Most of the time, he didn't think he understood, either.

*

When Harry approached Remus to ask for Patronus lessons, Remus thought he could teach the boy in an afternoon. But still, he thought he should do the thing properly. He put off Harry until after the full moon, and then found a Boggart so Harry could have real experience with the charm.

So, by the time Harry showed up to his rooms alone in mid-January, Remus had a complete plan that he put into action. First, he would suck Harry off, then he'd make love to him, then he'd teach him the Patronus Charm, then Harry would use the charm on the Boggart, and then Harry would be back in his dorm by curfew.

The first part of the evening went exactly as Remus had planned. Harry was beautifully responsive to Remus's touch, and Remus made love to him gently on his bed. When they'd recovered, he ushered the boy back out into his office area, and taught him the charm.

Only Harry didn't catch on as quickly as Remus had hoped. " _Expecto Patronum,_ " the boy said, but only produced mist.

Remus sighed as he stood behind the boy. He leaned down with his hands on Harry's shoulders and asked, "Is it a happy memory, Harry? Let it fill you up--lose yourself in it, then cast the charm." He rubbed the boy's arms encouragingly.

Harry tried again, but still only produced mist. It was all that Remus ever managed himself, after all, but Harry was always so...positive. Even when he came from Remus's--or even Severus's--cock, he was always so sweet and pure--that Remus was sure the boy could outperform a worn-out werewolf.

Remus decided it was good enough, and let loose the Boggart. It was a complete disaster. Harry didn't even manage the mist, and fainted dead away as the Boggart-Dementor approached him. Remus interceded and sent the Boggart back into the trunk. 

He made Harry try a couple of more times, but Harry only eventually managed a very faint mist, and even that drained him. Remus admitted defeat, and hugged the boy and kissed him gently. "It's okay, Harry, you did really well," he said.

But Harry just shrugged.

"Go back to your rooms tonight--I'll tell Severus you won't be coming down. You need to rest."

Harry trudged away and Lupin frowned after him.

"I don't understand, Severus," Remus said later. "Why couldn't he do it?"

Severus looked at Remus like he was a complete fool. "Because his memory wasn't happy enough."

"But he was completely relaxed--he'd just come twice, and--"

"Lupin," Severus said. "Raping the boy won't give him happier memories."

Remus sucked in a breath. "But--"

"Some children have loving parents. Some children are routinely raped by the former friends of their dead parents. Which children have a better chance of casting a fully-formed Patronus at the age of thirteen?"

"I don't rape Harry."

Severus looked at him, bored.

"I don't!" Remus insisted. "Ask Harry--he won't say it's rape."

Severus snorted. "During your next Patronus lesson, ask Harry what he thinks rape is. See what he tells you. And please--tell me what he says. I'm curious, myself."

Remus didn't want to do it, but with the seed of doubt planted in his head, he had to. When Harry came into his rooms for his next Patronus lesson, he blinked at Remus, who leaned against his desk.

"Harry--" Remus said, and gave the boy a long look. "Do you know what rape is?"

Harry frowned uncertainly, but said easily enough, "It's another word for fucking."

 _Oh. Oh shit._ Severus was right.

Harry must have seen something in Remus's face, because he said, "Is that not right, sir?"

"Harry," Remus said, "what's fucking, then?"

"It's what you and Snape do--you know..."

"So, we fuck you and we rape you, then?"

"That's--that's what you always said?" Harry said, and it even sounded like a question. "At first I thought rape was when I was facing away, and fucking was facing forward, but that's not it, is it?"

Remus weakly said, "No, no, that's not it." He had to explain this to Harry--but what did the boy know? Where to start? "Harry, you do know what sex is, right?"

"Sure, that's what boys and girls do."

"No, Harry, no--sex and fucking are the same thing--" Remus grimaced--"well, mostly the same thing. Fucking is generally rougher than sex, but two boys can have sex. You and I have had sex many times."

"Oh," Harry said, and got very quiet. "So--I've had sex? Even though I've never kissed a girl?"

"Yes, Harry, you've had a lot of sex."

Harry sat down. "Seamus asked me--yesterday, Seamus asked me if I was a virgin. I told him yes. I mean--I didn't think that time with the Polyjuice counted, because I've still never been with a girl but--I'm--I'm not a virgin?"

"No--no, Harry." Oh Merlin. All of this time, and the boy still didn't even understand what had been done to him. And Remus had been telling himself it was _mutual_ \--he thought of it as _making love_ , even--

But this earth-shattering revelation of Remus's had no effect on Harry. The boy just shrugged. "Weird."

There was no way Remus could explain rape to someone he'd been raping for months, but who had just found out that he wasn't a virgin. He didn't think he could teach Harry anything tonight, in fact. "Harry--I--I can't teach the Patronus Charm tonight."

"I--I'm sorry, sir, did I say something wrong? I won't do it anymore--I need to be able to fight the Dementors!"

"Harry, no--just--"

"Can I do something for you, sir? Do you want to fuck? Or rape me? Or--or--have sex?"

Harry sounded unsure of his new vocabulary, but he was reaching for Remus's robes with sure enough hands, and Remus pulled back. "Harry, stop," he tried to command, but Harry kept at him.

"I could rim you--would you like that?"

 _Well, at least they'd taught Harry the meaning of that word_ , Remus thought hysterically. Remus grabbed Harry's hands, somewhat desperately, and hugged the boy tight to keep him from trying to undo his robes. "Harry, Harry, why do you want to do that?"

"Because you like it, and if you feel better, maybe you'll teach me tonight."

Remus kissed the top of Harry's head, then kissed down his face. "Harry," he said, and kissed the boy's eyelids. "I don't want to have sex tonight, okay?"

"Okay," Harry said, clearly confused. Surely this wasn't the first time Remus had turned him down? ( _He'll offer anything_ , Remus had said. _He will, and I will take it_ , Severus had replied, and Remus had thought him a monster.)

Remus touched the boy's face. "I love you, Harry."

For some reason, this made Harry tense up. "Yes, sir," he said. 

*

Harry left Lupin's rooms as fast as possible. He was confused and a little scared, and there was only one person he could talk to about it, but that person was confusing and a little scary, too. But there was nothing for it. Harry went down to the dungeons.

When he got to Snape's rooms, he let himself in and found Snape and said, "I want to have sex tonight, Professor."

Snape was sitting on his sofa reading the Evening Prophet. He turned the page, and didn't look at Harry. "Take off your clothes, then," he said.

Harry did, uncertainly. He'd been almost _sure_ that Snape would say, 'Boys can't have sex!' Or, more likely, 'A man can't have sex with a boy!' But--maybe Lupin told the truth. 

Harry took off all his clothes anyway, and walked over to Snape. "Professor?" he said. "I changed my mind. I want you to rape me."

Snape snorted. "You can't rape the willing, Potter."

"I don't--I don't even know what that means!"

"Let me guess," Snape said, and finally put down the paper. "You've just had a talk with Lupin that didn't help you at all."

Harry shrugged miserably.

"Come here, boy," Snape said, and pulled Harry down to straddle his lap. "Now," he said, and held up his hand and arched an eyebrow at Harry.

Harry dutifully cast _Lubricus_ and Snape smirked and trailed his slick hand down Harry's back. Harry shuddered as a finger slipped into his arse. Snape kissed him, and Harry kissed back. "Do you want another finger, Harry?" Harry nodded, and Snape obliged. He added a third finger without asking, and pumped in and out, and crooked his fingers just like Harry liked, making him gasp. "Good boy," Snape said, and leaned in to bite one of Harry's nipples. Harry groaned and gasped, and pushed back against the fingers inside of him.

"Harry," Snape said. "Rape is a very bad thing. Sex is a very good thing. Some people can't tell the difference. Can you?"

"I don't--I don't know--"

"Right now, Harry, what I'm doing--is it good, or bad?"

"Good, oh, good."

"Good boy, Harry." He pulled out his fingers. "Not everything is so easy," he said, and suddenly he was holding the riding crop. "Stand up, Harry."

Harry felt a thrill of--something, he wasn't sure--but he did as Snape said. Snape stood, too. "Are you ready?" he asked. Harry wasn't sure, but he nodded anyway. "Turn around, Potter, hands against the wall," Snape commanded, and Harry did, of course he did.

And then Snape brought the crop down hard on Harry's back. It was loud and it hurt--it always hurt--but then Snape ran his hand along where the crop had landed, then snaked around to Harry's front to close around his erection. Snape squeezed. "Another?" he whispered in Harry's ear.

"Please, Professor," Harry whispered around the lump in his throat, and Snape backed up and did it again. And again and again, and it was--it was--Harry wanted to touch his cock very badly.

Then Snape did it again, on the backs of his thighs, which startled Harry, and Snape leaned in and whispered in Harry's ear, "Is this good, or bad?"

Harry had no idea how to answer that question. "It's--"

"Do you like it, Harry?"

"Yes--yes Professor."

"Good," Snape said, and then suddenly he kicked Harry's legs out from under him. Harry landed hard on his hands and knees, but Snape was already all over him, pushing him down with his knees tucked up underneath him. Harry tried to cry out, but Snape must have cast _Silencio_ again, because he couldn't make a sound. Both of Harry's hands were held behind his back by one of Snape's, and Snape pushed them at an odd angle that hurt. And then Snape pushed his cock into Harry's arse in one hard stroke, and started immediately to thrust. It drove Harry's face into the floor, but he couldn't do anything but take it--and it was rough, but he'd been so turned on that it hardly hurt at all, and he arched his back into Snape's thrusts because he kept hitting that _spot_ right there and --yes, _god_ , yes--and he turned his head to the side, and that hurt a lot less, and Snape hit that spot again on the inside--and--and Harry exploded into his orgasm.

When he was able to notice such things again, he realised that Snape was still holding his arms behind his back at a very uncomfortable angle, and pushing his face into the floor, and thrusting into his arse slowly, his cock still rock-hard.

" _Finite_ ," Snape said. "Now, tell me, Potter, this--this here--is this a good thing, or a bad thing."

Harry arched his back again because he couldn't help it. "It's a bad thing," he said clearly, but it sounded muffled because his cheek was pressed to the floor.

"Do you like it?" Snape asked, with another hard thrust into him.

Harry grunted and tried to ignore the question, which was a stupid tactic, really. "Do you like it, Potter?" Snape asked again, and pushed down on Harry's arms and thrust into his arse and Harry whimpered.

"Yes," he mumbled. "God, yes."

"Good," Snape said, and pulled out of Harry. "Roll over. Stay on the floor." Harry did, and stretched out on his back uncertainly. He didn't even care what Snape was doing--it just felt good to unfold his arms and legs. Snape straddled Harry's hips, and stayed kneeling above Harry. "Hold still, Potter," he said, and started pumping his own cock in a fierce rhythm. Harry watched the professor's hand flying over his cock, transfixed, until Snape came all over Harry's chest and belly. Then Snape rolled away from Harry and gasped, "Don't move."

So Harry lay on the floor, confused, waiting for Snape to do something. Finally, Snape ran his hand over his come on Harry's chest, then put his hand to Harry's mouth. "Open," Snape said. And Harry did, of course he did--he licked Snape's come off of Snape's fingers. Then Snape scooped up more come, and fed that to Harry, too. Harry lapped at it, eagerly, and didn't even gag when Snape suddenly pushed his fingers to the back of Harry's throat. Snape whined, then seemed to collect himself. "Fuck," he muttered. "I don't suppose Lupin was in any mood to join us tonight?" He pulled his fingers out of Harry's mouth, and ran his hand through the mess on Harry's chest lazily.

"He--he said he didn't want to have sex tonight, Professor."

"Did he, now."

Harry focused on the ceiling. "He told me he loved me."

"Did he, now?"

Harry shrugged. "I didn't say it back."

Snape laughed. "If I can't teach you the difference between sex and rape, I can at least teach the difference between sex and love."

"You have raped me," Harry said.

Snape shrugged, as if the accusation didn't bother him.

"Rape is bad, and you've done bad things to me."

"And yet you keep coming back for more."

"Can you teach me the Patronus Charm?" Harry asked, mainly just to change the subject.

Snape raised an eyebrow at him. "You can't cast a Patronus with Lupin's cock up your arse, so you think maybe you can do it with mine?"

Harry glared at Snape, but Snape ignored it, as always. 


	4. A safe werewolf

Remus avoided Harry for two full lunar cycles, and most of the next. He avoided Severus, too--but when the full moon drew near, seeing Severus became something of a necessity. To avoid Harry, Remus scheduled times to meet with Severus during the day or meal times, so that he could buggered blind in peace. Of course, Remus would have liked to bury his cock in Severus, but Severus wouldn't allow it.

Remus tried to avoid thinking that Harry would allow it. Harry would _beg_ Remus to please, please, bury his cock into Harry's tight, needy, sweet, young arse--

But Remus determinedly did not let himself think about that when Harry asked him if he could resume Patronus lessons. Instead, Remus just said, "You've achieved as much as I ever have, Harry. Keep working on your own."

This worked for two moons, but then the third full moon approached. Remus tried to ground himself by fucking into his own hand--except that the boy--the boy _kept asking to see him_ and the boy would willingly, _willingly_ let Remus bury his cock deep in his arse, and would probably like it so much he would come even before Remus did, even while Remus was driven mad with this useless primal lust.

He went to Severus again, but Severus couldn't fill his emptiness. He was unfulfilled. The full moon was tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow night. And Severus kept giving Remus his potion--he was safe, now--a safe werewolf--he wouldn't bite anybody--and his wolf--his wolf wanted--

His wolf _wanted_. And Remus wouldn't let it take more than the boy offered. No, Remus could control it; that's what the potion was for. Remus would--Remus would--

After a sleepless night, Remus made up his mind. He waited until six o'clock in the evening, then sent a note to Harry, telling him to meet in his rooms at seven. He didn't want to give the boy more warning--if he did, the boy was more likely to tell Severus, and Severus would--Severus would--Severus would not understand that Remus was in _control_.

*

Quidditch practice ran late on Tuesday night--their last match against Slytherin was Saturday, and Oliver Wood insisted on making the team run drill after drill after drill. Even the twins had stopped teasing Oliver about it--they just put their heads down and did the drills. And then Oliver had given them a good thirty-minute lecture (or was it a pep-talk? Harry couldn't tell) in the changing rooms after it was over. 

So it was nearly eight by the time Harry got back to his dorm. 

"You got a note from Lupin," Ron told him, and gave it to Harry. 

"What?" Harry asked, and tore it open.

"What's it say?" 

"He wanted me in his rooms at seven--oh, I'm late already--he probably wants to teach me the Patronus Charm again! I've got to go, Ron--this is important!"

But no matter what Harry said to Ron, he didn't really think that the reason Lupin wanted to see him was to teach him the Patronus Charm. Not after all this time. But this thought only made him hurry more. He'd missed Lupin--Lupin's softer hands and gentler touch and kinder eyes. Snape used Harry, and made Harry feel good while he did it--but Lupin had always been...generally...more of a friend. And less of a...professor.

And getting fucked by a friend tonight didn't sound like a terrible idea. He grinned and took the stairs two at a time.

When Lupin opened his door to Harry, the first thing Harry noticed was that Lupin looked a little--wild. But Lupin pulled him inside and locked the door fiercely with a spell, and said, "Harry, Harry, you're late--I thought you wouldn't come."

"I'm sorry, sir--Quidditch practice--" But Harry noticed Lupin's eyes. They were yellow. And he was sweating. "Are you feeling alright, sir?"

"I'm fine, Harry," Lupin said. "I just wish you got here sooner, so I could explain--Harry, this will all seem very--strange to you, but it's perfectly okay--I'm in control, do you hear me?"

Harry had no idea what was going on. "Yes, sir?" he said.

"Good," Lupin said, and whispered a spell that made Harry completely naked. Harry should have been okay with it--this was why he hurried down here, wasn't it?--So he could be naked and Lupin could fuck him?--but something made him uneasy. He told himself it was because he didn't know where his clothes went.

Lupin didn't seem to notice Harry's hesitation. Lupin didn't seem to notice much, honestly--he was too busy taking off all his clothes. "Now, don't worry, Harry, remember that I'm always in control and you can trust me."

The way Lupin rushed the words made Harry take a step back. 

"No, Harry!" Lupin said, and grabbed Harry's arm. "Don't be afraid--you mustn't run--that makes it--worse--Harry--" And he forced Harry to kneel on the floor and kicked his knees apart, which shouldn't have been as alarming as it was--didn't Harry like to be fucked on the floor? And if he had to suck Lupin's cock, what was the harm in that? It was nothing that Harry hadn't done before, right? But Lupin was just so strong. Stronger than Snape, which surprised Harry--and scared him a little bit. But before he could make a noise, Lupin stuck Harry's knees to the floor with a spell--his knees were far apart, which was usually brilliant for fucking, but right now it made Harry feel very exposed--

"Sir?" Harry finally said. "What are you--what are you going to do?"

"Good, Harry, good," Lupin said. "Submissive--stay submissive--I don't have time, Harry, so this is going to seem very sudden--but I'm about to transform, and when I do, I will fuck you. I promise I can make it good--just submit, Harry, just submit--good--good--" for Lupin was patting Harry's hair and caressing his neck. 

"Transform?" Harry said, with his stomach sinking. That couldn't mean anything good.

"I'm a werewolf, Harry."

Even braced as he was for something awful, Harry never imagined it would be as bad as that. His slight feeling of unease bloomed into panic. He tried to stand, but his knees--there was no--there was no give, at all--

Lupin whined. "You mustn't panic--Harry--you mustn't--if you do, I'll--I can smell it, Harry--you must control yourself--as I will control myself--you must--" And Lupin forced Harry down onto his hands. "Stay there, Harry--stay there and don't panic--" How could Harry not panic? _His hands were also stuck to the floor._ But Lupin was still talking--"--you'll like this--Harry--you'll--" but Lupin cut off with a growl. Harry made the mistake to turn his head to look, and saw--he saw--he saw--

He saw Professor Lupin turn into a werewolf. He stared into its eyes, and the wolf raised its hackles and growled at Harry. Harry quickly looked away--and tried--god, he tried--tried not to panic. Lupin had fucked him before--Lupin was a werewolf before--but Lupin hadn't actually _been a wolf at the time_ but Harry tried not to think about that--this was just Professor Lupin, his friend, who just happened to currently be a wolf--a wolf intent on shoving his cock into Harry's arse. And Harry couldn't move.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. "Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic," he whispered to himself--but he still nearly jumped out of his skin when the wolf (Professor Lupin, _Professor Lupin_ ) put a cold nose up to Harry's arse.

Harry trembled. "Oh, please don't bite," Harry whispered. "Don't bite, don't panic, don't bite--"

The wolf sniffed at his arse, and put a paw on his cheek and kept sniffing. Harry held very still. Then, very suddenly, the wolf practically jumped on Harry's back and jabbed at his arse with a very weird cock. "Don't panic," Harry reminded himself on a whine. _Oh, god, it's not going to use lube--_

And the wolf managed to line itself up and pushed into Harry dry.

Harry screamed--how could he not? The wolf growled and pulled out slightly, and Harry gasped, " _Lubricus_ " which might not do anything without his wand, and probably wouldn't help much at this point, anyway, but god-- _god_ \--he had to do something--he couldn't take this--

But the wolf kept pounding into Harry's arse, and Harry felt like it was tearing him apart. He gave up his mantra--he didn't try to fight--he just fell forward on his face with his arse in the air while a wolf fucked him, but hopefully didn't bite him?--Honestly, Harry might not even notice if the wolf bit him at the moment--

\--and it lasted forever--and the pain--and it hurt--and Harry took it--and took it--and took it--and finally, the wolf howled, and probably came? Harry didn't know, or care, really. The wolf pulled its cock out and didn't put it back in, so that was something, but the pain didn't even let up a little bit. The wolf got off his back, and Harry's knees were still stuck to the floor. He tried to lower his arse, but that hurt. Did it hurt _worse_ , though? Harry tried to lower his arse again. It was hard to tell if it was worse, but he decided to play it safe and keep his arse in the air for the time being. Where was the wolf?--where was the wolf?--Harry gasped, but then saw the thing--unbelievably, curled up and asleep on the sofa.

It was too much for Harry. He burst into indignant tears. That wolf was Lupin--Lupin had done this to him--and left him like this--and then fallen asleep on the sofa. 

He had to get out. He had to get out of Lupin's rooms _now_ \--and--and in Harry's desperation, he found he could suddenly move his hands and knees. He forced himself to his feet, and ignored the pain, which--he tried to reason--was hardly any worse while standing up. There was blood running down his thighs but that was--Harry could ignore that. He scrambled over to pick up his wand, and then--He needed clothes--where were his--clothes--He went to Lupin's bedroom and stole some robes out of his wardrobe--they were too big for Harry, but at least you couldn't tell he was barefoot underneath them--And the door was locked, but Harry pointed his wand and said, " _Finite_ ," and then Harry was finally out--out of there--and he would never go back--and he almost sobbed there in the corridor.

Where was he to go, though? Back to his dorms, bleeding and naked--"Hi, Ron--guess what Lupin wanted?"--To Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing--"I fell off my broom again, ma'am."--

No. To Snape. Of course to Snape. "Lupin is a werewolf and he tricked me and fucked me and he didn't even use lube."

He stumbled through the corridors, luckily not meeting a soul. Harry had to pound on Snape's door for a long time--a long time--before Snape finally opened the door. "Snape," Harry whispered. "Lupin is a werewolf." 

But then Snape shouted, "Harry!" which startled Harry very much, but Snape was looking at the corridor behind Harry. Harry turned to look, and noticed bloody footprints that started with him and led down the corridor and up the far staircase.

"He--he didn't use lube," Harry mumbled, and fainted dead away.

*

Severus let the boy hit the floor. He wasn't interested in touching a boy who showed up at his rooms, on the night of the full moon, bloody, with the knowledge that Remus Lupin was a werewolf. No. _No._ Severus cast several diagnostic charms on the unconscious boy, and was deeply, deeply relieved at what the first few revealed. He dragged the boy into his rooms, and then left him there to go clean up the corridor. As he suspected, Potter's prints led nearly all the way back to Lupin's rooms. Severus cleaned it all, then locked Lupin's door with a charm that he was sure that the wolf couldn't counter, then returned to his own rooms, to find Potter still unconscious in his front entrance. 

Understanding a bit better what must have caused this, he cast a different diagnostic charm, and felt a grim dread about what it revealed. 'He didn't use lube,' the boy had said just before he fainted--and this comment suddenly made more sense.

Severus cast every healing charm he knew--some he'd only ever read about, and some he'd invented himself--and could do nothing more than wait and see. He settled in for a long night watch, checking on the boy every half-hour to see how he was progressing, casting more charms if necessary. Finally, at half-three, the boy woke up with a start.

"Where is it?" the boy asked. 

"Your wand is right here, Harry."

The boy reached out and clutched it, but said, "No, no, the wolf--where is the wolf?"

"The wolf is locked away on the third floor, Harry. You are safe in my rooms in the dungeons."

Harry blinked at him, then looked away.

"Should I guess what happened tonight?" Severus asked smoothly. Harry shrugged. "Lupin asked you to his rooms, then he restrained you and transformed and fucked you as a wolf."

Harry quickly wiped a tear. "Pretty simple, huh," the boy whispered.

"How did you get away?"

Potter huffed a dry laugh. "He fell asleep," he said quietly. Then, louder, "He--it--the wolf--Lupin! He fucked me and left me stuck to the floor, naked, and he was asleep ten seconds later!" A glass jar on the mantle exploded, and Severus ignored it. Harry clenched his hands and panted until he finally calmed himself down. "You--you healed me," he finally said.

"I did," Severus said.

"Why? Do you want to have a go as well?" Harry sneered.

Severus shrugged. "If you're offering."

"Wh--you want--you want to fuck my arse, just after a wolf--a wolf--"

Severus looked at Harry. "I cleaned you--I did the charms myself. You're not infected. And I always want to fuck your arse, Harry."

And Harry fairly _threw_ himself at Severus, kissing him and undoing his robes. Severus let him--why wouldn't he--Harry knelt down and licked Severus's cock, then swallowed it down into his throat, and then licked up Severus's chest and kissed him fiercely. Severus ran his hands down Harry's back and slipped a lubed finger into Harry's hole. "More," Harry said fiercely. "I can take more." Severus put in three fingers and Harry pushed down against it. "Is that all you've got to give, Professor?" Harry goaded, and Severus grabbed Harry by the hips and forced him down on his cock. Harry groaned but didn't close his eyes. "Snape, Snape," he whispered. "Fuck me, Snape--fuck--Sn--"

And Severus did as the boy asked.

*

Severus would have liked to murder Lupin, but there was no way for him to get away with that crime. In fact, all year he had been half-worried that the wolf would somehow end up dead, and Severus would go to Azkaban for the crime, which was--fair enough, really.

The easiest thing, of course, was to tell the whole school that Lupin was a werewolf, but Dumbledore had performed a complicated tongue-tying charm on the faculty so that none of them could mention it unless some unknown critical mass of students already knew the secret.

So this morning, Severus waited until just after daybreak and forced his way into Lupin's rooms. Lupin himself was naked and groaning on the sofa. Severus quickly restrained him and hit him with a whipping jinx.

"Severus," Lupin groaned. "What--"

But Severus already had his hands on Lupin's throat, squeezing with all of his strength. "What do you recall of your actions last night, dearest wolf?" But Lupin couldn't answer, of course, so Severus pulled back and cast, " _Crucio!_ " He barely held the curse before he cancelled it. Then he whispered, "Shall I tell you what I did last night? Harry Potter showed up at my door, naked and bleeding freely from his rectum. Would you like to guess how he ended up in that state? Hm? Because he said that a certain werewolf restrained him, then forced its animal cock into his arse--but would you like to hear the best part, Lupin? The werewolf didn't prep the boy at all. No lubrication. Nothing. Would you like to know what that feels like, Lupin?"

Lupin whimpered, as well he should. Severus pulled his largest butt-plug from his robes. It wasn't as big as the pestle, but he wasn't going to debase his favourite pestle by shoving it into the arse of a werewolf. And then he rolled Lupin onto the floor--which was easier in Lupin's weakened state--then cast Sticking Charms on his hands and knees, and shoved the pestle brutally inside of the man's hole. 

Lupin cried out, and Severus yelled, "When you had done this to Harry, Lupin, what did you do afterwards? Do you even remember? Tell me!"

"I fucked him until I came," Lupin said in a broken voice. "I didn't bite him, Severus--I didn't--"

Severus snorted. "No, you didn't bite him, Lupin. But you will not touch him again, because I do not wish to spend the rest of my life in Azkaban for your murder!" He punctuated this by ramming the plug in again. 

Lupin took it with a gasp and a grunt. But then he said, "He's not--he's not yours, Severus."

"He is mine, Lupin. He gave himself to me again last night, even after what you'd done to him. You think he'll let you have him again?" When Severus said it, it occurred to him that _yes, Potter will probably let Remus have him, even still_ \--but this thought did not improve his mood. "I will take over your classes today." He jammed the plug back into the wolf. "You will stay here and think about what you did." And Severus left the wolf, naked, stuck to the floor, hopefully bleeding, with a large plug up his bum.

He taught all of Lupin's classes about werewolves in the hopes that enough of the dunderheads could put two and two together so that Severus could freely speak by the end of the evening. Unluckily, Harry was in one of the classes, but the boy kept his head down and didn't speak once, even though his friend Granger was indignant about the disruption to the proper order of lessons.

By the end of the day, Severus went to the Slytherin common room and found a prefect. He tried to say, "Remus Lupin is a werewolf," but what came out of his mouth was, "Be sure this Quidditch nonsense doesn't go too far." 

Damn it.

Before he retired for the night, he peeked back in to Lupin's rooms, just to see if the wolf had moved yet. Severus could see from the door that he hadn't--he was still stuck to the floor in front of his sofa on all fours. Severus snorted. 

"Severus," Lupin rasped. "Is that you? Please..."

Severus approached the wolf, who reeked of piss and shit and vomit. Severus ignored the stench so he could lean down and whisper in Lupin's ear, "I do hope that at some point today you pondered one very important question. Who was there to unstick Harry from the floor? Hm?"

"No one," Lupin whispered.

"No one, Lupin. But what I want to know is this: how well did you sleep after you left him like this?" Lupin's only response was quiet sobbing. Severus sneered and stood up. "You disgust me. Do not ever speak to me again." He walked to the door and had already opened it before he tossed out a casual, " _Finite_." He closed the door behind him and walked away.

*

Harry never wanted to go to Defence Against the Dark Arts again. Snape was there that first day, while Harry was still in a daze--but Harry knew--he knew--that Lupin would be back today. And Harry would have to sit down and answer questions and turn in homework and look at the man who had been Harry's friend, but had then turned into a wolf and then--and then hurt Harry--and then fallen asleep. That wolf--that had been Lupin. Lupin had been that wolf.

And the worst part was that before it all happened, Harry had run down to Lupin's rooms, hoping to be fucked.

But as much as Harry didn't want to look at Lupin, it seemed that Lupin didn't want to look at him more. By the end of class, Harry was glaring openly at the professor, who refused--who refused to _look_ at Harry--as if Harry wasn't even worth _looking at_. And after--after what Lupin had done--had done to Harry--Lupin had to--he had to _look_ at him.

By the end of class, Harry's indignation was boiling over. He told Ron and Hermione, "I've got to talk to Professor Lupin about something private." And they left him, because who wouldn't trust Professor Lupin alone with a student? What could that nice man do that would be so awful?

Lupin noticed that Harry was lagging behind, and tried to slip out a side door, but Harry followed him. "Sir," Harry said. "I have to talk to you." The side door led to Lupin's office--where, earlier in the year, Lupin had fucked Harry over that desk right there. In fact, there was a discoloured spot on the wood, from Harry's come. But Lupin kept walking to another door, beyond--to his private rooms. Harry determinedly followed. Even though--right there on the floor--that's where--Harry had stared at that exact spot on the floor, while he couldn't move--and--and--

Harry planted his feet on the exact spot and shouted, "Sir!" Lupin had to make this better, somehow. "LOOK AT ME!" Harry roared.

Lupin stopped in the doorway to his bedroom, with his shoulders slumped. "I can't, Harry--I can't."

"Why? Sir--you owe me--at least an apology--"

"I'm sorry, Harry--I'm sorry--"

"Look at me!"

"Harry--" Lupin finally glanced at him, and quickly looked away. "Harry, even now, even after what I've done--I'm a monster, Harry, but still--I will rape you again if you stand in this room much longer."

Lupin didn't understand at all. It made Harry so angry, which wasn't quite fair, because Harry didn't really understand, either--but--"You!--You!" And Harry flew at Lupin, punching him and hitting him and hitting him--"Don't you think I'd rather be raped by you like this? Better than--than by--a--"

And Lupin suddenly started to fight back. And he was _strong_. "By a wolf, Harry?" Lupin growled, and he had Harry flat on his back and had already pushed up his robes. "I _am_ a wolf, Harry--my cock is a wolf's cock--the only difference is that you know it now--" And he kissed Harry, and Harry kissed him back, and their teeth clacked together because the kiss wasn't _gentle_ at all, but Harry pulled Lupin closer all the same. 

"Rape me now, Lupin. Rape me now," Harry demanded. 

And Lupin did. And Harry came twice.

After they were both finished, Harry started crying in earnest. Lupin wiped his tears, "Harry, Harry--I'm sorry--please--what's wrong?"

"You--you didn't fuck me for months--for months! And when I got your note, I thought, 'Oh good, Lupin wants to fuck tonight'--but then it wasn't you--it was--and I would so much rather it was like this, but you--" and Harry sobbed and curled away from Lupin. 

"Harry--" Lupin said, but Harry had already decided he was done with Lupin for the moment. He stood up and put on his clothes, but Lupin kept talking. "I'm sorry, Harry. I've never been as comfortable with rape as Severus is."

Harry huffed. "Snape never raped me as bad as you have. What we did just now wasn't rape. What you did--when you--you raped me. Snape has raped me but he never--never that bad."

Lupin laid back and put his hand over his face, which Harry immediately disallowed. He launched himself at Lupin, straddling his chest and pulling his hands away. "Look at me!" Harry demanded.

Lupin opened his eyes and stared at Harry for several long uncomfortable seconds. Then Lupin finally said, "I'd like--I'd like to rape you again tomorrow. After lessons, if you're amenable."

Harry didn't know what that word meant, but he slid his arse--his clothed arse, sadly--down Lupin's still-naked form, and ground his hips into Lupin's. "I am amenable," Harry said, hoping it meant something like randy.

*

A week after Lupin attacked Harry, Harry was riding Severus's cock. The only thing novel about the experience was that Severus was lying on his bed while it happened--They'd only ever fucked on the floor or against walls or over desks or on chairs--but Severus was trying to be gentle with the boy after his experience with the wolf, so he'd invited the boy into his bedroom. Harry had taken to the change with equanimity, given the way he was writhing above Severus.

Severus reached out his hands and held Harry by the hips to still him. "Harry--are you letting Lupin fuck you again?"

Harry blinked at him and clenched his arse. Severus groaned, but maintained control. "Harry--is Lupin fucking you again?"

"What?"

Severus thrust upwards, just because. "Tell me--after that wolf buried his animal cock in you and tore you to shreds, and you came to me bleeding--" Severus thrust again, as brutally as the position would allow--because he suddenly knew the answer, and it made him angry--"Did you go back to Lupin and allow him fuck your arse."

"Y--yes?" Harry said.

"When." Severus demanded. "When did you let him fuck you."

"Y--yesterday?" Harry moved his arse. "Mmm--this afternoon, again?"

Merlin Christ. Severus roughly pushed the boy off him and stood up, then hesitated. He was disgusted--absolutely disgusted with the boy and yet--not put off by it, not at all. 

The boy blinked at him from the bed, confused. Then Harry looked away and made to cover himself.

"Don't!" Severus commanded, and fired off spells to flip the boy over and bind him, then a silencing charm, and then an extra lubrication charm, because he wasn't like Lupin. The boy was splayed out, face-down on his bed, arse positively shimmering with lube. "You never say 'no,' do you, boy? You'll take anything--anything--and--" Severus climbed over the boy, trying not to touch any part of him-- _fuck_ , he was hard. "You'll always come back for more, Harry--Harry--I've been wrong about you--I don't think it's possible to rape you--" and he shoved his cock into the boy, and the boy jumped. "Anything--you welcome anything--anything--and you--just--fucking--take--it--and--come back--for more--" Severus was blindsided by his own orgasm. He collapsed on the boy, panting. He licked at the boy's shoulders, because they were there. "You're a slag, Harry. A slag who can't get enough. Take whatever Lupin will give you, but always come back to me."

*

The school year ended in disaster. Sirius Black found Harry, and was not a bad person at all, and was friends with Lupin--and Harry looked at Sirius, and wondered if Sirius would fuck him, too, and wondered if he'd like it. And then he wondered if it mattered if he liked it. But then Sirius offered him a home away from the Dursleys, and Harry decided that it didn't matter if he liked it if Sirius fucked him or not--he would be happy with whatever Sirius offered.

But then Lupin transformed and Harry froze up in fear, which got even worse when the Dementors came--and Peter Pettigrew got away, and everyone probably would have died, except that Snape was able to conjure a Patronus. The Dementors still destroyed Sirius, and--it was stupid, because Harry had just met him--but Harry felt like all his hope died when he watched what happened to Sirius.

Maybe he just felt like that because of the Dementors. 

And then Lupin was sacked because Snape told the Slytherins that he was a werewolf, and Harry felt betrayed, but let Snape fuck him one last time, anyway, because he had to go back to the Dursleys soon and Lupin was gone and Sirius was worse than dead, but getting fucked by Snape was at least familiar.

"Why did you tell on Lupin?" Harry asked, while Snape drove into Harry.

Snape just smiled and said, "I had no idea the critical mass was three." And then he thrust until he came inside Harry's arse.


	5. Force

# PART II: The Aristocrat and his Associates

Chapter 5: Force

Soon after Harry returned to Privet Drive that summer, he looked up "rape" in the only dictionary the Dursleys owned. The dictionary told him that rape was the crime of forcing another person to submit to sexual intercourse. Harry repeated the definition to himself over and over again, until he could start to make sense of it. "Sexual intercourse"--that was sex, but Lupin had told him that much, at least. "Submit"--Harry thought that meant something like bowing, but he looked it up and found that it meant something more like surrender. The words that stopped Harry cold were "crime" and "forcing." 

He spent a week thinking about force. Was it force if a man summoned you to his office, and you raced down there, hoping to get fucked, and then he fucked you slightly differently than you imagined? What if he stuck your hands and knees to the floor, first? Or what if another man whipped you, and you liked it, then fucked you, and you liked it, and then he held you down and whipped you again, and fucked you again, but you didn't really like it the second time? Was the second time really force? 

On Wednesday, he thought that no one had forced him to do anything. He had asked for everything that had been done to him and he'd even liked most of it. Snape had even said _I don't think it's possible to rape you._ And even though Harry had been tied up and scared at the time, he'd still come hard into the mattress as Snape had...done what he did...

Harry dropped two plates that day, and Aunt Petunia yelled at him for being clumsy. 

On Thursday, Harry thought that--besides a few times--every other time had been nice, and good, and it was okay that he'd liked it. And on Friday, he remembered all the times he had said "no," and all the other times he'd wanted to say "no," but Snape had silenced him. And then, with a hot flush of shame, he remembered the time that he put the pestle in his own--in his... _bum_...and then went down to the dungeons and...and Snape and Lupin had-- _both_ \--put their--

\--But Harry had even liked that, hadn't he? He hadn't been forced. No, he hadn't been forced at all--he knew what they were going to do, and he let them--it had been his decision, and he even had _asked_ Snape and Lupin to--to-- _do_...the things they did. 

It was true, and it made Harry have to rush into the bathroom to throw up every bit of everything he'd eaten for the past six months, it felt like. When he finally came out of the bathroom, Aunt Petunia gave him a glass of cold water and excused him from his chores that day, and even Dudley looked like he felt bad for Harry.

There had to be something wrong with Harry, because if he were a good person, he would have stopped going to Snape and Lupin and asking them to fuck him. Especially after Lupin had--on the night of the full moon--Even Snape was disgusted with Harry then-- _I don't think it's possible to rape you_ \--

And then Harry decided that he wasn't going to think about it anymore. It was a good plan, and it worked well during the day, but nights were harder. He couldn't control his nightmares. Sometimes, he'd wake up from the nightmares in sticky sheets, and he would spend the rest of the night wondering what was wrong with him. But then day would come, and he could focus on more mundane things, like how glad he was that he had to do his own laundry.

*

Severus was almost happy to see Harry among the students at the Welcoming Feast. The boy was a bit taller, perhaps, maybe a bit more gangly under his robes, but it was hard to tell. The boy avoided his gaze for the whole meal. All the same, Severus was almost sure Potter would show up at his door that night. When he didn't, Severus told himself that the first night at Hogwarts was a difficult time to sneak out of one's dormitory. But then Harry didn't show up the night after that, or the night after that. 

So Thursday's Potions lesson was the first time Severus got a chance to see Harry up close. Severus took the opportunity to give Potter a detention, to be served that night. It was best to let the boy know as soon as possible that it was not up to him to change the nature of their association. 

Potter was five minutes late to detention. He came into Severus's office uncertainly, and wouldn't make eye contact.

"You're late, Potter," Severus said in his silkiest voice.

"Yeah, well, I don't deserve to be here," Potter mumbled.

"What was that?"

"I said, I shouldn't be here, sir," Potter spat.

"So I'm 'sir' now, I see," Severus said smoothly.

"I'm not--doing that, anymore."

"Doing what, Potter?"

"That--those--those things we did last year."

"You've outgrown our games?"

Harry shot Severus a look. "It was never _our_ game. It was your game. Always."

"Ah," Severus said. "Pull out a quill and parchment, Potter."

"What?"

"A quill and parchment. You're going to be doing lines for me, Potter. This is a detention, if you recall."

Potter looked wary, but got the requested items out of his bag. "What do you want me to write?" he asked.

Severus smiled. "I want you to write, 'I remember everything I did last year.' One hundred times."

He could see Harry's jaw clench, and noticed the boy breathing very hard. But he didn't say anything, and he didn't make a move to start writing. So Severus said, " _I_ remember everything you did last year, Potter. Furthermore, I remember how you liked it. You told me, multiple times, that you liked it. So I just want you to write, 'I remember _everything_ I did last year.'" 

Potter couldn't seem to find an objection to the phrase, so he finally picked up his quill and started. Severus watched him write one line, then two. Then, still looming over Harry's desk, he carefully undid his robes. Nervous, Harry looked up at him. "What are you doing?" the boy asked.

Severus shrugged. "Nothing," he said, as he undid his flies and pulled out his cock. Harry swallowed and looked at it, as if he couldn't help it. Severus stroked himself slowly. "Keep writing, Harry," he purred.

Harry swallowed and started writing again with a slightly shaky hand, and then Severus began to stroke himself more earnestly. He groaned and put his free hand on Harry's desk, leaning his weight on it. Harry glanced at his cock again. Severus was starting to leak precome.

"This was inside of you last year, Harry," Severus said unsteadily. "Your arse clenching around it--your sweet arse, Harry--fuck, it was so tight in there, even after you'd been riding Remus and me all evening--still I could bury myself--deep--inside of you--and you'd be so tight--Harry--you'd beg for more--you'd beg--fuck--"

Harry made a small noise, somewhere between a squeak and a groan. Severus grinned and came all over the boy's paper. Harry sat frozen, staring at the mess. Severus stayed leaning over the desk, panting. 

After several moments, Severus was the first to move. Very slowly and deliberately, he ran his index finger through the come. Then he raised his finger, slowly and deliberately, to his own mouth. He locked eyes with Harry, who was looking at him with something that might have been horror, or might have been longing. Severus smiled and sucked the finger into his mouth. He closed his eyes and ran his tongue around it, then pulled it out and lowered it back into the come. This time, Harry put his hand out to stop him. Severus let him, and waited. Then, slowly, tentatively, Harry pulled Severus's hand to his mouth. Harry didn't look at him but Severus couldn't look away as Harry's sweet tongue licked the come off Severus's finger. He lapped at Severus's finger longer than necessary, and finally pulled it out of his mouth. Again, Severus let him. 

When Harry raised his eyes to look at Severus again, Severus said, "Lick up the rest of it, Harry."

And Harry did. Harry leaned over the desk and licked at Severus's come, and as he did, he also licked at the words _I remember everything I did last year._

When Harry had finished, Severus said, "Take off your clothes, Harry."

Whatever fit of rebellion that had come over Harry seemed to have passed. Harry made rather short work of his robes and clothes and underthings, and was soon standing beside the desk, naked and hard and panting. 

Severus smiled. "Turn around, Harry, and bend over the desk."

Harry whined and did so. Severus had no intention of prepping the boy. Instead, he coated himself in generous amounts of lube and placed the tip of his cock just at the boy's entrance. Harry gasped, and here Severus paused. "Do you want this, Harry?"

The boy nodded into the desk.

"Ask for it, Harry."

"Just--I don't know--god, just do it."

Severus kept his cock poking at the boy's hole, and licked up his neck and nibbled on his ear. "Ask me, Harry."

Harry whimpered. "Please, Professor. Please, I want it."

It wasn't what Severus wanted him to say, but the return of title of _Professor_ showed that Harry knew his role, anyway. And that was so welcome that Severus shoved inside Harry with one impossibly hard thrust. Severus groaned, and was so lost in his own sensations that he forgot about the boy for a moment. The boy was _tight_ , so tight, and the pleasure was extremely close to pain, even for Severus. And then he noticed the boy clenched around him and whimpering. Severus pushed down on the boy's neck. "Take it, Harry. Stop fighting it." Harry keened and his arse remained clenched. Severus perversely thrust a few times, riding the line between pleasure and pain. "Take it, Potter," Severus said again sternly. "Remember that you asked for this."

Harry whimpered and sobbed, "I know."

"Second thoughts?" Severus said, and thrust again. Harry gasped and cried. "Stop fighting it, and take it."

"I'm trying!" Harry whined.

"Try harder," Severus said, and thrust again.

"Stop moving!" Harry snapped.

Severus cast _Silencio_ , then grabbed Harry's hips and pounded into him in a pace that lost all pleasure and crossed firmly into pain. He ignored this, because Harry had to learn this lesson. "When you ask for something, Potter, you don't get to dictate how I give it to you." Severus slowed his pace, but kept thrusting. Finally, finally, Potter's arse unclenched. 

"Good," Severus said. "Good." He started to swirl his hips in thrusts that just felt _good_ , then reached around Potter and wrapped one hand around the boy's soft cock. He chuckled into the boy's back. "Did you lose your enthusiasm, Potter? Hm?" But of course the boy didn't respond. Severus timed his thrusts with strokes on the boy's cock, and bit down hard on the boy's shoulders and pulled his hair, and soon Potter was hard and writhing beneath him. 

Potter came silently, but Severus supposed that he would. Severus held as still as he could, and waited for the boy to come down from his orgasm. When Harry's breathing returned to normal, Severus gave another slow thrust and said, " _Finite_."

Harry groaned. "Why do you do that?" he asked.

"Why do I do this?" Severus said, and thrust into Harry again. Harry arched his back into it.

"Nnnnooooo," Harry moaned. "Why do you--uunnggghhh--why do you cast that spell?"

"Do you not like it?"

Harry's shoulders moved in what might have been a shrug, had he not been pressed face-down into a student desk, naked, with Severus's cock up his arse. 

Severus laughed, suddenly delighted, and thrust into the boy until he came with a shout. 

"Professor?" Harry asked, some time later.

"Hm?"

"You don't--you don't have, like, a thing with Professor Moody, do you?"

Severus looked at Harry. "No," he said sternly, and pinched the boy's thighs for making the suggestion. "Are you missing a second cock up your arse? Because I could find more palatable partners than Mad-Eye Moody. Lucius Malfoy, for example."

"No!" Harry said quickly. "What? No--no way."

"Of course, I would put you under Polyjuice first." Severus _felt_ Harry twitch at that, and he laughed. "Imagine Lucius Malfoy fucking into you, never once realising that you're Harry Potter. I admit, I like the idea very much myself. And I assure you that Lucius would be more than willing." He ran his hand down Harry's back, and slipped a finger inside the boy. Harry arched into it, almost instinctively. 

"Professor?" Harry said, on a hitched breath.

"Hm?"

"When--when you do thaaaaa-oh, god--yes--that--oh--"

Severus pulled his fingers out abruptly and sat down on his chair. Harry pushed himself up and turned around to face Severus. "Why did you--stop?--that was--can you fuck me again, are you ready?" But Harry was already moving to kneel in between Severus's legs. He leaned forward and took Severus's half-hard cock into his mouth, all the way to the back of his throat. Severus groaned and thrust up, choking Harry. He didn't care; he pulled the boy forward by the hair. "Take it, Potter," he grunted. "Relax and take it." He thrust again, and Harry surprised him by controlling his gag reflex much better. He dropped the boy's hair, and Harry scrambled up to straddle Severus's lap. The boy reached to grab Severus's cock, and guided it into his own arse. Severus groaned as the boy sank down. 

The boy looked at him with glassy eyes. "You're not done fucking me," he said feverishly, and ground down on Severus's lap. "I'm raping you now." Harry raised himself up and sank back down. "Take it," Harry said, as he rode Severus's cock. "Take it, take it, take it--"

Severus roared and somehow stood up and slammed Harry down onto the desk, without his cock slipping out of the boy once. He pounded into the boy, panting, "I take--what I want--I take--what I want--" and Harry kept panting, "Take it--take it--take it--" and this time, they came together. 

Almost immediately afterwards, Harry ruined the moment by saying, "I want to fuck you, Severus." And then the boy reached a bold hand around Severus and ran it down his crack.

Severus touched Harry's neck in a gentle caress that slowly turned into a firm grasp, then an iron grip. Harry gasped and struggled, pulling at Severus's hand and trying to roll away. The boy was stronger than he was last year, but Severus could still overpower him.

But then the boy's magic flared against Severus, burning his hand and sending him stumbling back. This enraged Severus. " _Silencio! Incarcerous! Crucio!"_ he screamed, and Harry was bound in silent agony. Severus watched him for a moment before he lifted the Cruciatus. As Harry stared up at the ceiling--still silent, still bound, chest heaving and tears running down his face--Severus rooted around his desk drawer for his favourite pestle. He found it, and cast the Cruciatus again. As the boy writhed in his bonds, Severus shoved the pestle into the boy's arse with no more lubrication than what was already there. 

Then he calmed himself and cancelled the Cruciatus.

"Harry," he said silkily, but the boy wouldn't look at him. Harry's eyes remained fixed on the ceiling as he trembled in his bonds. "Harry, look at me." When Harry still didn't, Severus wiggled the pestle. From Harry's reaction, he hadn't even noticed it was there until that moment. Severus laughed. "Harry, look at me." Finally, finally, Harry did. He was still shaking and sweating and his eyes were full of tears. "Understand this, Harry. We are not equals. We are not on a first-name basis. You are to call me 'Professor' at all times. And if I ever desire your cock up my arse, I shall let you know. Do you understand?"

Potter nodded slowly.

"Good, Harry, good," he said, and played with the pestle again. "Also, you are not to use your magic against me. I will take whatever I want, Harry, and you will take whatever I give. Do you understand me, Harry?" Harry nodded again, and Severus smiled. _Finite Silencio_ ," Severus said.

Harry whimpered. "Please..." he whispered.

"Please what, Harry?"

"Please don't do that again," the boy said in a rush.

"Do what, Harry?" Severus asked smoothly as he played with the pestle. The boy continued to tremble so much, Severus wasn't sure if it was a reaction to the pestle or not.

"That _koosheeo_ spell--please, Professor, please--" And Harry choked on a sob.

Severus pulled the pestle out and shoved it in again cruelly, and barely noticed any difference in the boy's spasms. He pulled the pestle out with a sigh. He cast a cleaning charm on it and put it back away in his desk, and refastened his robes. Then--with Harry still naked and bound to his desk--he left his office, locking the door behind him. He went to his private rooms and found his personal stock of potions. There, he took a tiny grey phial, full of a potion that he'd developed himself, but hadn't used in years. He took this with him back to his office to find Harry trembling harder than ever. 

"Professor," he gasped. "Please, please don't leave me like this--please--don't--"

"Hush, Harry, and drink this," Severus said, and held the phial to the boy's lips. Harry looked confused, but drank the potion without any real protest. Immediately, the boy's trembling lessened and his muscles relaxed slightly.

"Th--thank you, Professor."

Severus shrugged. "I won't hesitate to use that spell again if I deem it necessary, Potter."

Tears welled in Harry's eyes, but he nodded.

" _Finite_ ," Severus said, finally removing Harry's bonds. Harry rolled away from Severus and wiped his face. 

"Can--may I leave now, Professor?" Harry said to the opposite wall.

Severus smiled. "On one condition, Potter," he said smoothly.

"Anything, Professor--you--you know that," Harry said flatly.

"You may leave if you can make me come again within half an hour. If you cannot, I will use the Cruciatus Curse again."

Harry looked at him, determined but with an edge of panic. "What--what do you want me to do?"

Severus looked at him like he was stupid. "I want you to make me come, Potter. Is that not specific enough?"

"Do--do you want me on the floor? Or on my back, holding my knees?"

Severus heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Potter. I want _you_ to make me come." He sat down heavily in his chair. "Must I do all of the work every time?"

Potter scrambled over to him, kneeling down in front of Severus and pushing up his robes, and took Severus's limp cock into his mouth. It wasn't unpleasant, but after the evening he'd had, he didn't think he _could_ come again in half an hour. But it would be entertaining to see the boy try.

Harry fondled his balls and hummed and sucked, and Severus's cock started to show some interest. Harry undid Severus's robes and opened up his shirt, then licked up Severus's belly while gently pumping Severus's cock. He spent a few moments sweetly nibbling on Severus's nipples. 

Severus couldn't say it was entirely unpleasurable.

Then Harry conspicuously checked the clock, then turned back to Severus and licked his neck. "Do you want--do you want to fuck me again--is that--?"

But Severus just shrugged. Harry licked into his mouth, then licked his ears, and Severus allowed all of it, but even so, he was only half-hard. Still, he was impressed that the boy had managed that much. He checked the clock himself--it had only been eight minutes.

Potter continued to kiss and stroke Severus for the next several minutes without making much progress. When he checked the clock again, nearly twenty minutes had passed.

Then Harry got creative. He sucked all of Severus's fingers, one by one, without breaking eye contact. Then he put his own fingers into Severus's mouth and Severus sucked them eagerly enough, but Harry put four fingers in at once, which made everything quite sloppy. But then Potter deliberately got up from Severus's lap, and turned away from Severus and bent over. Then the boy slipped a spit-slick finger inside of his own arsehole. 

Severus couldn't help it; he whined. Potter slipped in another finger.

"Christ," Severus said.

Harry rolled his hips and put in another finger. Severus watched him as he pumped his fingers in and out, in and out, then slowly backed up into Severus's lap. Then, with a sure hand, he reached for Severus's cock--rock-hard now--and guided it into his own arsehole. He sank down with relative ease and ground back against Severus and arched his back in a practised motion. Severus had been trying to be as passive as possible, but at this point, he couldn't help himself--he grabbed Harry's hips and thrust up into him. Then, thinking the boy deserved some sort of reward for his performance, he reached around to stroke Harry's cock--

\--Only to find that the boy was completely flaccid. Somehow, this turned Severus on even more--Harry was his, Harry was _his_ \--and would debase himself in whatever manner worked for Severus, not even caring if he got anything out of it--

He grabbed Harry's hips and thrust and thrust and thrust and heard himself grunting and he was close, god--close--and unbelievably, he came, right inside the boy's arse. When his cock slipped out of the boy, he finally thought to check the time. Precisely thirty-one minutes had passed. He laughed. "Cutting it rather close there, Potter?" 

But Harry slumped forward and sobbed. "Please, Professor, please--it was just at thirty minutes--I swear--"

Severus pulled the boy back into an embrace. Harry was trembling as if Severus had already cast the Cruciatus again. 

"Please don't," Potter kept saying. "Please--please don't."

"You're mine, Harry," Severus said. "Mine. Just mine. Do you hear me?" Severus kissed his temple as Harry nodded. But the boy continued to tremble.

This troubled Severus. He had never been able to hurt the boy prior to this--no matter what he did with whips or canes or belts or bondage--the boy had taken it and come back begging for more. This was the first time he felt like he'd crossed a line--like he'd broken the boy, if only a bit. Severus liked that the boy could be broken, of course. But this crying, shaking child in Severus's lap--this was not the boy that Severus could do anything to--The boy whose first-ever sexual experience had been _two cocks up his arse at once_ , and who stayed for more afterwards--who had _begged_ for more afterwards, and then thanked Severus for using him so thoroughly--no, not the same boy at all, Severus thought in horror--in fact, this evening was the first time Harry had ever, _ever_ , asked for permission to leave. Severus always liked pushing the boy as far as he could, but he realised that he didn't enjoy breaking the boy.

He held Harry to him, and continued to stroke his arms and kiss his temple, as he thought about how to proceed.

Severus gently turned Harry around in his lap so that the boy was straddling his hips. "Look at me, Harry." Harry did. "Let me be candid with you: I have done things with you and to you that I have never been able to do to another human being. You have exceeded my every sadistic fantasy, and yet you have always begged me for more. If--after all I have done to you--if the first time you have raised an objection is to the Cruciatus Curse--Harry--" Severus leaned forward and nipped at the boy's collarbone, and Potter squirmed. "I'm not worried about your limits, frankly." And Severus twisted his nipple in emphasis. 

Harry pulled away slightly. "You won't use that--Krooshitus?--again?"

Severus wasn't willing to agree to that. The perverse cruelty of it--and Harry _hated_ it so...Even the _threat_ of it was delicious--

But perhaps he should have known that this was not the proper time to push Harry. In the moment after Severus's hesitation, Harry punched him in the jaw.

It was a hard punch, and Harry landed it well. It startled Severus, but more than that, it _hurt_.

But Harry had already got out of Severus's lap and was stumbling for the door.

" _Impedimentia_. _Incarcerous_. _Silencio._ " Severus fired off the spells in rapid succession before Harry got very far, and regarded the bound and naked boy on his floor. "It should mean something to you that I'm not enjoying this side of you," Severus bit out.

Harry glared at him.

Severus launched himself at Harry, grabbing the boy's knees and shoving them up by his ears. Luckily, Harry was still under the Impediment Jinx and unable to fight back effectively, for Severus would have had a hard time holding him down at this angle--but as it was, the boy's arse was raised beautifully off the floor, and Severus bit down hard on his perineum, then stuck his tongue out and laved the same place. Harry's body jerked under him, which was delightful. Severus bit down again, more gently. Then he pulled away and ran his hands roughly up the boy's body, then licked and nipped up the same trail. Then he kissed the boy on the mouth. Harry opened to it, but wasn't as responsive as usual. " _Finite Impedimentia_ ," Severus said, and was rewarded by the boy's hips jerking underneath him. "You are a beautiful but troubled child, Harry," Severus whispered. "Sometimes I want to take a potion that leaves me hard all night, just so my cock can stay inside your sweet arse. Someday, I'm going to give you to Lucius Malfoy and let him rape you, and maybe join in myself--oh, you would come apart so beautifully under his touch--" Severus scratched his fingernails down Harry's chest and leaned forward to bite down hard on his shoulder--"Fuck, Harry, you are such a sweet fuck--" he wrapped his dry hand around Harry's hard cock and Harry closed his eyes and thrust into it. Severus smiled and cast a lubrication charm on his hand, then continued to stroke the boy. "I like having you naked in my rooms, unable to speak. It's much better than having you in class, fully clothed, speaking whatever asinine comment that comes into your head. You are much improved by these minor changes, Harry," Severus said as he pumped the boy's cock. Then, with his other hand, he summoned the pestle. Merlin, how he loved the way the boy would squirm on the huge thing--he'd shoved other things up the boy's arse, of course--he had a small collection of actual butt-plugs which he had used, and on one memorable occasion, he had worked the handle of a bullwhip into the boy's arse, and made Harry crawl over to him with the long tail dragging behind him--but the pestle remained his favourite. It was far too big to be comfortable, especially for someone not yet grown. It thrilled Severus every time he pushed it into Harry's willing hole. 

He held the pestle up and showed it to Harry. "I have my favourite toy, Harry, and I'm going to shove it inside of you hard and fast." Harry looked at him, unblinking, and adjusted slightly. Severus smiled, cast the lubrication charm, and shoved the pestle all the way in with one thrust. He studied Harry's face as it turned into a picture of pain and determination. "When I give you to Lucius, I will pierce your nipples and chain you to the wall by the rings, and have you wearing nothing but this," Severus said in a low voice, as he worked the pestle in and out and around. Harry looked at Severus with his pupils blown wide. "We will both fuck into you, Harry, both of our cocks held tight by your sweet arse, and oh, how you'll cry, because we won't be gentle--but we'll hold you down and rape you until we've come inside of you--"

And Harry suddenly opened his mouth and came all over his own belly. Severus laughed and continued to work the pestle until the boy had come down. Then he kissed Harry gently.

" _Finite_ ," Severus said, and pushed the boy's hair back from his forehead. "On Saturday, I want you back in my rooms, ten o'clock in the morning. You have a lot to apologise for." He tugged out the pestle and cleaned it.

Harry nodded, but still didn't speak. Severus licked at the come on the boy's belly, then stood up and cast a cleaning charm. The boy got up and dressed himself without making a sound. Finally, he stood and looked full-on at Severus. "Thank you, Professor," he said quietly. "And--and I'm sorry."

The boy turned to leave, but Severus stopped him. "Harry," he called. "I won't make any promises, but you must understand--you _must_ understand--that I prefer you willing."

The boy blinked. "But rape is force," he said bitterly. "I know that much, now."

"Harry," Severus said smoothly. "Not all force is unpleasant. Saturday, ten o'clock."

By the time Harry left his rooms, it was quite late, but Severus couldn't sleep. The evening's events had brought up things that he hadn't thought about for years.

The boy wanted to bugger him.

The first time Severus had been buggered, he had been in third year--just about the same age Harry had been, in fact. An older Slytherin had cornered him in the bathroom and had his way with Severus, and--had used the Silencing Charm, in fact--and Severus had hated every moment--he hated the older boy, he hated himself--

\--But it happened a second time, and a third time, but by then he'd had enough. He knew he could get the boy in trouble, and he was even willing to risk his own humiliation in order to do so. So he went to Lucius Malfoy, who was Head Boy that year, and tried as best he could to explain what had been done to him, using halting words and ugly gestures. After his childish description of rape, he finally looked at Lucius with his face burning. And Lucius looked at him sadly and kindly. "Avery's not very good at what he does," Lucius said, with a gentle hand on Severus's shoulder. "That's probably why you don't like it." And Lucius had run a hand down Severus's face...

And somehow, Severus was never quite clear how--but somehow, ten minutes later, Lucius was lying back on his bed and Severus was riding his cock. It didn't--hurt, not precisely--it was--it was--

It was something that Severus repeated several times that year, until he decided that he didn't like it. He told Lucius this, and Lucius just shrugged. "Not everyone does," he said easily. "If Avery comes at you again, let me know."

It was the last time Severus had ever been buggered.

He was fifteen years old the first time he cornered a younger boy in the bathroom and buggered him. He found that experience much more enjoyable. He had been studying memory charms, and was able to perform one well enough that the boy never even gave Severus an odd look after the incident.

He didn't repeat the experiment often, but he remembered every time he did. He was a professor the first time he tried it on a girl--it had been a girl named Sarah, a fourth-year Ravenclaw who had come to his office to ask him a question. Shoving his cock inside the girl's velvety cunt had been novel, and Severus didn't hate it. But few weeks later, he took a second-year boy during his detention--mainly just for comparison--and found that he liked the boy's clenching arse better, on the whole.

Before Harry, he'd wiped the memories of all of his victims. And he didn't do it often--maybe six victims in all, counting Harry--it wouldn't do for Dumbledore to get suspicious. And he did take more willing lovers, like Lupin. But Lupin was damaged and eaten up with self-hate, so Severus wasn't sure how much Lupin counted as a willing partner. 

Before Harry, Severus had never raped a child who asked for more. Possibly, being an orphan had warped the boy, and Severus was only warping him further. 

It had never occurred to Severus to leave the memories of his victims in tact--but with Harry--the fact that he _knew_ \--

But the boy wanted to bugger him.

When morning came, Severus sent an owl to Lucius Malfoy, requesting an audience in a secret location, at noon on Saturday.


	6. Learning, then forgetting, then learning again

Friday's classes were awful. Professor Moody demonstrated all three Unforgivable Curses in Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Harry could barely process any of it. 

1\. The Cruciatus was Unforgivable.  
2\. His parents had been murdered with an Unforgivable.  
3\. Snape had used an Unforgivable on him, just the night before.  
4\. Voldemort had tried to use an Unforgivable on him, but it didn't work.  
5\. Snape's Unforgivable had worked perfectly.  
6\. Snape didn't even need the Imperious Curse. Snape _was_ an Imperious Curse.  
7\. What Snape had done to him last night was Unforgivable, capital U.

Tears sprang to Harry's eyes. He had to look down. The shame and injustice were too much to think about. Harry was so messed up, he could probably come while under the Cruciatus Curse, as long as Snape's cock was up his arse. But only if Snape whispered into Harry's ear about watching while _Lucius Malfoy raped him_ \--god--

Hermione noticed his distress, but luckily Harry's life was fucked-up enough that she assumed he was just upset about one of the other Unforgivable Curses that had ruined his life.

As his first tear hit his desk, Hermione whispered, "Ask if you can go to the bathroom. I'll take notes for you, don't worry."

Harry didn't know how he did it, but he somehow excused himself from class and made it to the bathroom before he vomited up his breakfast. Ron found him after it was all over. He clapped Harry on the shoulder and said, "That was a rough one, mate." Harry shrugged away from Ron's touch, and Ron dropped his hand without comment. "Hermione says you shouldn't skip lunch, but I'll bring you a sandwich if you'd rather go up to Gryffindor."

"Th--thanks, Ron," Harry whispered.

Harry somehow made it through the rest of the day, but he was in a fog for most of it. When he woke up on Saturday morning, he remembered that Snape had asked him to visit that day.

 _Asked_ was maybe the wrong word.

For about ten seconds, Harry thought about staying away from Snape's rooms--just this once. After those ten seconds were over, he rolled over in bed and found that Ron was already awake. "I need to be alone today," Harry said. 

Ron looked unhappy, but nodded. "I'll tell Hermione," he said.

*

Harry knocked on the door to Snape's private rooms two minutes before ten o'clock. Snape let him in with one of his evil little smiles.

"I have a surprise for you today, Potter," Snape said, and Harry just shrugged. At this point, the only thing Snape could do that would actually be a surprise was if he asked Harry for a cuddle.

"Something wrong, Harry?"

Harry shrugged again. "Only we learned about Unforgivable Curses in Defence Against the Dark Arts yesterday."

"Did you now?" Snape asked, sounding genuinely amused. "Fortuitous timing, don't you think?"

"Can you explain something to me, Professor?" Harry asked, because he had been wondering about his feelings for a while. "When I'm here, you do these things to me, and I--I mean, I like them, mostly--except for the other day--and it feels good, usually, even when it hurts--but after I leave, I feel--I don't like them as much. I feel bad. I feel like this is wrong, all of it."

"You feel like you've been raped."

Harry shrugged. "I suppose."

Snape gently touched Harry's face, which Harry hated almost more than the Cruciatus in this moment. "Harry," Snape said gently. "It's because I'm raping you."

Harry shrugged again.

"Also, it's because you're a Gryffindor. It's not enough that something feels good--you also want it to be noble. I can make the rape feel good, Harry--but I can't make it noble."

"So, that's just it, then? I'll always hate it, and you?"

This time, Snape shrugged, holding out his hands. "Only afterwards."

It was so ridiculous that Harry almost laughed. He sat down in Snape's chair. "What's your surprise, then?"

"We're leaving the castle today," Snape said, which was, in fact, a surprise. 

"We--wha--where--why?"

"I'm not telling you where--it's a secret. I'm not telling you why--it's a surprise."

"I don't trust you at all, you know."

"It doesn't matter that you don't trust me. You'll still do as I say."

Harry knew this was true. But he still felt like there was a huge Unforgivable thing between them. So he gathered his courage and asked, "Professor? Can I--can you--will you just tell me what set you off that night?" Usually, Snape knew what he meant and didn't make him elaborate, but this time, Snape just looked at him blandly. So Harry continued, "Was it my magic? Was it before that--calling you--calling you by your name?" Snape's face hardened, but Harry plunged on anyway. "Or was it asking to fuck you?"

Harry half-expected to be cursed again. He closed his eyes and clasped his hands together, trying to make them stop shaking. Harry could hear Snape telling him, _Your pleasure is beside the point. It's rape_. He supposed his pain was also beside the point.

"Potter," Snape said, and Harry looked at him. "Call me 'Professor'--I've told you that before. You can ask me for anything, and I'll give it to you or deny it, but I won't feel guilty either way. I've told you that before, too. Your magic flared at an unfortunate moment, but it was involuntary and therefore not your fault."

"So, can I fuck you, Professor?" Harry asked. He supposed what he was doing was like picking a scab, but he couldn't help himself.

"Ask me again when you have pubic hair," Snape said drily.

"Remus would have let me fuck him," Harry said, boldly using Lupin's first name. But Snape's eyes got hard.

"Would he," Snape hissed.

Harry shrank. "P--probably not," he relented. "But--my magic did set you off, and like you said, I couldn't help it--"

"Harry. Stop. Your magic reacted because you spent all summer thinking about how I raped you, and forgetting about how you enjoyed it. The first time I choked you a little bit, you reacted in fear, which--I admit--I didn't take well to. I didn't realise you would hate the Cruciatus as much as you did--"

Harry actually spluttered at this. "Wh--How?--How can you say that, do you even know how it feels? It's awful and--"

" _Silencio_ ," Snape cast, which Harry _hated_. "I have been under Cruciatus more times than you would believe, Potter. I don't enjoy it, but I nor do I enjoy being whipped, and--if I recall, the first time I whipped you, you responded with a spontaneous declaration of love." Harry flushed, but kept glaring at Snape. "If you want me to apologise for what I did, you'll be waiting a while. I don't regret it. I know something of your boundaries, now, which I didn't know before."

Harry finally looked away. 

"How was I to know, Harry? How could I guess? You were brutally raped by a werewolf, and you willingly fucked him not a week later!--And my own experiences with you--the second time you came to me--the second time Lupin and I had you--we held you down and _made you bleed_ , Harry, and afterwards, Harry--afterwards you shocked me right down to my toes when you looked Lupin in the eye and told him we could do it again. And, true to your word, the very next night, you came back to my rooms, panting and nearly naked, and begged us--begged us to fuck you, and writhed on our cocks and fucked us right back. Harry--Harry--" and Snape knelt down in front of Harry and took his hands, and Harry was suddenly very uncomfortable and very, very turned on--"Harry, I've never, never had anyone like you."

Harry was stunned, but he felt...powerful, suddenly. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that Snape was _kneeling in front of Harry_.

Snape seemed to feel something shift between them, too, because he suddenly stood up and said, "We've wasted too much time. We need to go--we need to get there before he does."

Surely--surely Snape wasn't going to make good on what he had said about Lucius Malfoy?--but Harry couldn't ask, so he let Snape take his wand and drag him through the Floo to an unfamiliar house that was very quiet. There was no one there, and the furnishings were sparse. 

Harry didn't have time to investigate; Snape dragged him down into a cellar that was empty but for a bed. Harry shivered.

"Remember what I promised you, Harry?"

Harry did, of course. But it hadn't been a _promise_ , not really, it had just been talk--hadn't it?--and it had made Harry come--but it had just been talk, not--not--not really Lucius Malfoy--surely, surely, Snape wouldn't--

But Snape took off Harry's clothes and Harry let him (of course he let him). Then Snape tied Harry's hands behind his back--but with a cord, not with a spell. Then Snape produced a needle and two silver rings. He held them up to show Harry--and--Harry didn't know how he'd forgotten the part about the pierced nipples-- _ohmygod, the pierced nipples_ \--no--no--

But then Snape was kissing him and touching him and running a finger over his hole, and then biting one nipple and pinching the other--then pinching the nipple _hard_ \--and Harry jerked and looked down, and would have gasped if he could. His left nipple was pierced with one of the silver rings and--

And it looked kind of sexy. The bright silver shone against Harry's dark nipple and looked--dangerous. He looked up at Snape and licked his lips. Snape laughed at him. "Didn't think you'd like it, did you?" he said. "Potter, some day you'll get used to being wrong." He held up the needle, which had a little bit of blood on it now. "Ready for the other?" Harry nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact. "Do you want to watch, this time?" Harry nodded again, and Snape put the tip of the needle just at the base of his nub. "It will hurt more if you watch, Harry, but you mustn't jump." Harry nodded minutely and bit his lower lip. He braced himself, but what happened was so fast that Harry could barely see it. Snape jabbed the needle through, and somehow followed it with the ring, which was open, but as soon as it was through it was closed again, a perfect silver ring hanging from his nipple. 

Harry looked at both of his nipple rings, breathing through his mouth. Snape growled and kissed him fiercely, pressing into his chest and making--making the most exquisite--god, it hurt but it-- _god_ he felt sexy. Then Severus _touched_ one of them--just touched it, barely a whisper of a touch--except that it lit Harry on fire. His knees buckled and Severus caught him. " _Finite_ \--Harry, are you okay?"

Harry only moaned and looked up at Severus--at Snape. "Professor--" he gasped. "Can I--Can I maybe call you 'Severus,' sometimes?"

Snape pulled Harry to his feet and kissed him again, all teeth and tongue, and then sucked on Harry's neck--and his ears--and played with one of his nipple rings again, and Harry only groaned and tried to get closer to him, which was difficult with his hands behind his back--but luckily Snape seemed to be of the same mind. Finally, Snape pulled back. "You perfect little wench," he panted.

"Shall I ask you again after I get pubic hair?" Harry teased. Harry _teased_ Snape and he had nipple rings now? And...and was Lucius Malfoy going to show up and fuck Harry? Harry felt suddenly dizzy. He sat down rather heavily on the floor--it was awkward with his arms tied behind him--but he looked up at Severus. "Is Lucius Malfoy coming?" he asked.

Snape nodded. "He is."

Harry swallowed. "Are you going to give me Polyjuice?"

"No. But I'm going to let him assume that I have done so."

"Oh!" Harry said, not having thought of that. "Oh. But, then, will he only be here for an hour?"

"No," Snape said, and pulled a flask out of his cloak. "I'll be dosing you regularly."

"With what, then?"

"Pubic Hair Remover."

Was Snape being funny? --Was Snape _funny_? Harry didn't want to react either way, so he tilted his head to the bed. "There's a bed," he said.

"Good, Potter, that's good."

"Do you have time to fuck me on a bed before Lucius gets here?"

Snape shrugged. "If you ask nicely."

Harry blinked up at Snape. "Please fuck me on the bed, Severus," he whispered, and licked his lips.

Snape did, and it was brilliant--especially with the nipple rings which were--god, they hurt, in all of the right ways--but to Harry's disappointment, Snape didn't even seem to notice what Harry had said.

On the whole, it was an odd morning. Harry supposed that calling Snape 'Severus' and getting away with it shouldn't be that odd, since the other things that had happened that day were that Snape knelt in front of him, told him he'd never met anyone like him, then took him away from Hogwarts, then pierced his nipples, then told him that someone new would show up to fuck him. 

But still. Severus. It was a lot to think about, really. Something had changed between them. Harry could feel it.

Before Lucius arrived, Snape cleaned up Harry a bit, then made him kneel on the floor, with his hands still bound behind his back, then conjured chains that loosely bound Harry to the ceiling by his nipple rings. It was--god, it was--Harry couldn't stop wiggling. 

"You're going to make me think you're enjoying that," Snape said, and pulled one of the chains--which-- _god_ \--

"Snape--" he gasped. "The--the pestle. You said--"

"Damn," Snape said. "I was too distracted this morning--I forgot--we'll save that fantasy for another day, hm?"

Harry looked up at Snape, still panting. Snape looked like he wanted to swallow Harry whole--and at this moment, that didn't seem like such a bad idea. "Can you--can you fuck me again?" he said.

" _Silencio_ ," Snape said, which Harry supposed was inevitable. "We've no time, Harry, don't tempt me. Lucius is due any minute. You should know that whatever he wants from you, he will take from you." Harry closed his eyes and pulled a bit against his chains again. "I won't stop him," Snape continued. "I will observe, or I will join in, but don't look to me for rescue if you don't like what he does." Harry nodded. He hoped that Severus didn't mean the Cruciatus--he really, really--really, he didn't want any part of that. Snape nodded at him. "Lucius does not enjoy the Cruciatus, Harry. But he is...creative."

Harry nodded again. And then he heard the Floo flare upstairs. God. _God_. Was this--was this happening?

"Severus?" It was Lucius Malfoy. Harry had sat behind him at the World Cup just this summer--Lucius had sneered at him--and now--and now, was he going to fuck Harry--actually put his cock in Harry's arse--Draco Malfoy's _dad's_ cock--?

Snape called out, "In the cellar, Lucius." Then he briefly squeezed Harry's shoulder and moved toward the staircase. Harry felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. If everything went according to plan, he was about to get fucked by Lucius Malfoy. Why had this not freaked him out five minutes ago? Five minutes ago, this sounded--hot? But now his hands were behind his back and his wand was back at Hogwarts and he was naked and chained to the ceiling by his brand-new nipple rings, and Lucius Malfoy was--

\--Was coming down the stairs and saying something to Snape, but Harry's ears were ringing, and Harry didn't hear anything until Lucius said, "But he's terrified, Severus!"

Snape laughed. "Terrified, but not trying to escape. I had to work very hard before I found that this one even has boundaries."

"Anything I should know about?"

Snape smirked. "You will not approach anything this one will not enjoy." And Snape walked over to Harry and pulled on a chain--and it felt--and Lucius was looking at him--and Harry _knew_ what his nipple rings looked like--and Lucius thought he was someone else--but he was looking at Harry--at _Harry_ \--like he was sexy--and Harry was breathing through his mouth again and staring at Lucius, who stared back. Harry started to get hard, and Lucius noticed, of course he did, then he licked his lips at Harry. 

"Do _you_ have any conditions?" Lucius asked Snape levelly. 

Snape shrugged. "I may join in. He knows I won't stop you, whatever you do."

"'Join in,' as in--"

Snape smiled. "As in, anything you wish. The boy will take anything. The first time I fucked him, another man's cock was already in his arse. I am given to understand that it was his first sexual experience."

Lucius blinked at Harry. "Where _do_ you find them, Severus?" But then he started walking over to Harry. "You don't speak, boy?"

Harry couldn't help it; he shot a look at Snape. Snape said, "A silencing charm. I prefer him this way."

" _Finite_ ," Lucius said. "May I call you Harry, boy?"

Harry swallowed. "It's what the professor calls me," he said.

Lucius tugged delicately on the chains, and Harry groaned. Lucius laughed, which sounded much less cruel than Snape's laugh. But then he pulled on the chain so hard that Harry had to get to his feet, gasping. Lucius pressed down on the offended nipple with the heel of his hand, which hurt at first and then--and then felt so much better. "These are new, then?"

Harry didn't say anything, waiting for Snape to speak, but then Lucius tugged on the other chain. "Harry. Are these piercings new?"

"Er--ye--yes, sir--sorry, what am I to call you, sir?"

Lucius smiled. "Oh, you are delicious. You may call me Lucius. How old are these piercings, Harry?"

"Erm--about an hour, maybe?" One of Lucius's soft hands was stroking down Harry's back. He melted into it. But Lucius's hand stopped before it reached Harry's arse. 

"So, Severus fucked you with another man?" Lucius said, as he stroked Harry's arms and shoulders.

Harry nodded and bit his lips.

"Did you like it, Harry?"

"Ye--n--not at first--but they both liked it so much, and then the second time they did it--well, that hurt a lot, too--but every time after that was--yeah, it was good."

"Wouldn't you rather be fucked by one man at a time?" Lucius asked, as he pulled the chain--the one attached to his more abused nipple.

Harry groaned. "Most of the time, yes."

"Severus said he did something to you that you didn't like. What was it, Harry?"

"The--erm--the Cruciatus Curse, sir."

Lucius's hands stopped. "The Cruciatus, Severus?"

"As I said, you needn't worry about his limits," Snape said easily. 

Lucius turned back to Harry. "Call me Lucius, Harry. I like to be on a first name basis with boys before I give them my cock."

"Yes, Lucius," Harry said, and finally, finally, Lucius kissed him. It was smooth and his teeth were straight and he pulled away, nipping on Harry's lower lip and dragging it with him. Harry whimpered.

"I'm going to put a Blindfolding Charm on you, Harry. Is that okay?" Harry nodded, and suddenly his eyes were closed and he couldn't open them. "Stay here, Harry. I saw something upstairs that I need--I'll be right back."

"Yes, Lucius," Harry said, and Lucius left. 

Severus came over to Harry and purred in his ear, "I never considered fucking a blind-mute before," but then Lucius was already coming back down the stairs and Severus left Harry's side. 

"I'm going to try something, Harry, but first I need to adjust your chains. Ask me to adjust your chains."

"Er--what?"

Lucius caressed Harry's chest with soft hands again, and said, "Ask me to adjust your chains, Harry."

"Er--can you adjust my chains, sir?"

Lucius tugged sharply on the chain, making Harry yelp. "Harry, you remember my name, don't you?"

"Lucius, sorry, Lucius, can you adjust my chains?"

"How do you want them, Harry?"

Harry hesitated, but Lucius pulled slowly, slowly on both chains, and the tug was so delicious that Harry found himself pulling against it. "Tighter," he gasped. "I want them tighter, please."

"Certainly, Harry," Lucius said, and he adjusted the chains until Harry had to stand on his tiptoes, and even so--god, it was almost too much--but it was--god, why wasn't--why wasn't Lucius touching his cock--? 

"Can you touch me, Lucius?" Harry thought to ask. 

"Where, Harry?"

"My cock--please Lucius--can you touch my cock?"

Lucius laughed a clear laugh. "Soon, Harry. Can you wait?"

Harry groaned and tried to shift but it was--god--no--the pain was close to being too much--but instead it was--"Maybe," he panted. So he bit his lips and waited.

Then he heard Lucius say " _Calor_." Then a slight pause, then, " _Calor_." Another pause. " _Calor_."

" _Calor Maxima_ ," Snape said.

"For goodness sake, Severus, I've no need for a _torch_. _Finite. Calor. Calor. Calor. Calor._ " Then Harry heard a slight hissing sound, and Lucius said, "Perfect. Are you ready, Harry?"

Harry nodded, of course he did. And then he felt a sharp burn on his hip. He cried out and jerked away, and then cried out again as the chains pulled hard on his nipple rings. It took him a torturous minute to find his balance again. 

"Would you like me to do that again, Harry?"

"Ye--what is that?" he asked, despite himself.

"It's a poker from the upstairs fireplace. Has Severus never tried burning you before?"

"No--no, Lucius," Harry said. And then there was a very long pause and Harry squirmed against the chains and groaned again. "I--I'd like another," he said quietly, and was touched by the poker again almost immediately. Now that he knew what to expect it was--the burning on his hips and the tugging on his nipples--because he couldn't help but jerk away from the burn--god--it was--"Again, please," he moaned, and Lucius did it again. "Again, Lucius," he said, but this time Lucius hit his other hip--oh god, Harry didn't expect it--he'd been braced for the other side, and tears may have been rolling down his face because he was knocked completely off-balance again.

"Harry, I don't think you can take another."

"I can! Please--I can take it--Please, Lucius--" and Lucius did, and it was absolutely exquisite, because he wasn't sure which side Lucius would hit, and he moaned and--god, he was hard, so hard from this torture--and no one would touch him--and Lucius burned him again, and then again without Harry asking for it--and then Lucius's soft hands were at his nipples, rubbing them, and Lucius whispered, "I'd like to try something else, Harry. How ready is your hole?"

Harry gasped, not understanding.

Lucius said, "Has Severus already fucked you today?"

"Yes--yes Lucius--"

"Good," Lucius said. "What kinds of things has dear Severus shoved up your sweet arse in the past?"

"Mm--Mainly a pestle."

"Good, Harry, good. I have a carved walking stick here--it's really quite beautiful, I wish you could see it--it has a serpent carved around a sphere--really quite artistic. But what you may notice first about it"--and Lucius put it against Harry's hole, and Harry couldn't help it--he wanted it so badly--he arched into it, pulling at the nipple rings. Lucius laughed. "What you may notice about it, Harry, is that it's not perfectly smooth." And Lucius eased it in--and it was bigger than a cock, but smaller than the fat end of the pestle. But the pestle got narrower after the initial thrust and this--this did not. And then Lucius twirled it, and Harry suddenly understood what he meant about it not being smooth--god--god--it moved in all kinds of interesting ways--it was--

But then Lucius pulled it out, almost cruelly. "I'm sorry, Harry, I forgot to ask if you wanted it."

"Yes!" Harry panted. "Yes, please--"

"How did it feel, Harry?"

"Good--it was--yeah--please--" And Lucius slid the walking stick inside of Harry again and left it there. 

The thing about the walking stick--was that it dragged on the floor, slightly. And Harry couldn't balance very well on his tiptoes, as he was, and he swayed slightly forward, which dragged the stick on the floor and it jostled inside of Harry and drove him mad, and then he swayed slightly back, which jabbed the thing deeper inside of him--and while he was trying to process this, Lucius licked at his burned hip. Harry cried out. He was so hard he was leaking. "Please! Please, can you touch me now?" Harry begged. 

"Not yet, Harry," Lucius whispered, and then he stepped away again, and then Lucius touched the hot poker to his hip again--and the burn--and the nipples--and the jostling stick in his arse--Harry cried out and came, completely and utterly untouched.

Before Harry could gather his wits, Lucius was tugging on the chains again, but then the tugging stopped--Lucius had unchained him.

" _Finite_ ," Lucius whispered, and Harry blinked open his eyes, and Lucius was naked and...genuinely beautiful--and looked ready to fuck Harry five ways from Sunday, which was okay with Harry, really. "Look at yourself, Harry," he said, and Harry looked down. His nipples were oozing blood, but that just made the silver rings shine and look more--dangerous--certainly not less sexy. His cock was still half-hard, and his hips had angry dark stripes--four on each side. The cane was still in his arse, and Lucius reached around Harry and pulled it out gently. It was a bit uncomfortable, to say the least, but Harry bore down and just tried to keep his balance. Lucius then held the cane up for Harry to see. It was--it was smaller than Harry had thought--and the end of it shone with lubrication, still, and the snake decoration was really--it had really been in his arse and it had definitely made him come, hard. Harry thought it was beautiful indeed. Lucius asked, "Are you ready for me to fuck you, Harry?

"Yes--god yes--" Harry said, and pushed forward into Lucius, nearly knocking him back. But Lucius pushed him face-down on the bed, then his weight was on top of Harry and _finally_ Lucius pushed his cock in Harry's arse, smoothly, relentlessly, but--god, so smooth, and Harry--Harry had forgotten that _smooth_ could feel good, too, after the knobbly stick had been so amazing--and Lucius found that spot immediately, and kept--god, Harry's cock was in the mattress, and his nipples were in the mattress, and Lucius's cock was in his arse, and--Harry turned and locked eyes with Severus, who was panting and stroking his own cock in the corner. Harry deliberately arched his back into Lucius's thrust and groaned again, never looking away from Severus. _This is what I would do to you_. He pushed back against Lucius again, and licked his lips at Severus. And Severus's eyes and Lucius's cock and the nipple rings and the burns and--and Harry came again. 

Lucius kept thrusting into Harry's arse lazily. "Harry?" he said after a while. 

"Hm?"

"Is today a day you fancy being fucked by two men?" Lucius did a different kind of thrust, and Harry moaned. "Harry?"

"Hm?"

"Can I share your arse with another man?"

"Depends on who you have in mind," Harry mumbled.

Lucius laughed his clear laugh, and rewarded Harry with another exquisite thrust. "I don't know. Severus looks lonely over there."

"He does," Harry agreed.

"Can I tell you a secret, Harry?" Lucius whispered. "I've never done this before. How do two men go about getting their cocks into one arsehole?"

"Mm," Harry said. "Untie my arms." Lucius did, and Harry spent a long time rolling his shoulders. Then he arranged Lucius, sitting on the edge of the bed, and sat down on his lap, wrapping his legs around him and sinking back down on his cock--"God," Harry said out loud, and ground his arse down on Lucius--"God, you feel--" but then Lucius twisted a nipple ring, which brought Harry back to the task at hand. "Right," Harry said. "Right. Spread your legs a bit," Harry said, and reached behind him to swat at Lucius's legs. 

"Wait," Severus said from just behind him. "Drink this, first."

Right, the fake Polyjuice. Harry took a swig and swallowed it while Lucius stared at his throat. He handed the flask back to Snape, who said, "Ready?"

In response, Harry reached behind him and pulled apart his cheeks in invitation. He felt punch-drunk, really, but then he felt Snape's cock bump up against his already-occupied hole, and he gasped and sobered up a bit. It had been a long time since he'd done this--but Snape pushed in, slowly, bit by bit, while Lucius cursed fluently and Harry tried to take it. "Scream, Harry," Severus said.

Harry kept his eyes locked on Lucius, who watched him with something like amazement. "I won't. Just do it," Harry panted.

"Only the tip is in, Harry. Scream." And Severus made a tiny thrust, and Harry couldn't help it; he did scream. And he kept screaming as Severus kept pushing, and Harry went limp. "Good boy," Severus said, and played with his nipple rings and licked his neck. 

"Bloody, buggering, _fuck_ , Severus," Lucius gritted out.

"Don't thrust yet," Severus said. "I usually prep him more than this--he'll need a few moments to adjust."

"Can somebody--please--just--touch my cock?" Harry said, and was immediately rewarded. He'd gone completely soft when Snape had thrust in, but he knew this whole thing was more tolerable with a hard cock. Then Snape did an odd thing and leaned back slightly, pulling Harry with him. 

"Lick his nipple, Lucius," Snape said, and cupped Harry just under the nipple, and Lucius leaned forward and put his tongue through the ring and pulled it a bit--and the hand on his cock still stroked him, and someone's hand pulled his hair, and Harry ground his arse down and _squirmed_.

"Seven hells," Lucius breathed, and Harry leaned forward and kissed him. Severus started pumping into his arse in earnest, and Harry welcomed it. The hand on his cock fell away, but Harry had a free hand, so he reached down and took care of it himself while he sucked on Lucius's neck--and there was a hand playing with his nipple rings--and his hand pumped his own cock--and Snape's cock pumped inside of him--and Lucius's cock pumped inside of him--god--god--

Harry's orgasm was so huge that it took all three of them with it. 

As Lucius dressed himself, he said to Snape, "You simply must let me have another go at the boy. He is too delicious for words."

Snape waved a hand from where he lay on the bed. "If you ask nicely, he'll probably suck your cock down his throat right now."

Lucius's hand paused on his buttons but then he resumed. "I haven't the time. But Severus--Have you shown him to Mulciber? Nott? _Macnair_? No, Macnair is sick, never mind. But any of the old crowd--we could ride a train, and the boy would like it."

"Of all the ways I've raped the boy, I admit that I'd never considered gang rape."

Lucius laughed. "You're not raping him, Severus."

"He says he is," Harry mumbled.

"Has he ever raped you, Harry?"

Harry shrugged. "A few times."

"See, Severus? The boy can tell. How old are you, boy?"

"Fourteen."

"Old enough to marry," Lucius said.

"If he were a girl. And it was the nineteenth century."

"Pish. Call it rape if it makes you feel better. Does it make you feel better to call it rape, Harry?"

"Sometimes, yeah."

"When was the last time he raped you?"

"Thursday."

"He raped you on Thursday?"

Harry glanced at Snape, whose face was impassive. "Y--yeah," Harry said. "Yeah, he did."

"Oh," Lucius said thoughtfully. "This afternoon wasn't for me. It was for you. An apology."

Harry frowned but Severus said, "Of a sort, yes."

Lucius laughed. "You are truly twisted, Severus, but it seems you have found your match. And Harry--don't take this personally--but I hope Severus rapes you every day for the rest of your life, so that I can spend every day after, using your body for his atonement. I have enjoyed you, and I would be happy to enjoy you again any time your lover needs to apologise to you. Now I simply must take my leave--I bid you a very good day." And then Lucius left. They heard the _whoosh_ of the Floo, and then nothing.

"Draco Malfoy's dad just fucked me in the arse until I came," Harry said, just to see if it sounded as ridiculous out loud as it did in his head.

It did, and Snape laughed at him, still not sitting up. "Get over here, Potter. I want to rape you."

Harry stood in front of Severus and played with his nipple rings. His nipples were badly bruised by now, and god--god--they hurt. They hurt so much that he had to keep touching them. Snape gazed at him as he did so. "You couldn't rape me right now if you tried, Severus," he said boldly.

"Don't tempt me, Potter. Lay down here," he said, and patted the bed next to him. "I want to suck your cock."

Harry couldn't remember the last time Severus said something like that, so he scrambled up onto the bed, but he scraped his burned hips. He hissed in pain. "God, that stings," he said.

"Hm," Severus said lazily. Then he sat up so quickly that it made Harry jump. "Let me see it," Severus said, in a way that sounded like it was an emergency. But Harry was still naked, and the burns were right there, on both sides--so he just stayed still and hissed while Severus ran his hands over them. "The Polyjuice--damn him!--I thought it was odd that he was marking you--he doesn't usually--but he always surprises me, so I thought--but the Polyjuice, Harry! Damn him, he knows it was you--that's why he left so soon--he needed to get out of here before I realised and wiped his memory! Damn him!"

But Harry didn't follow this. All he knew was that his promised blow-job was probably not going to materialise. He put his arm over his face. "What are you on about, Severus?"

"Harry, you dolt--Lucius Malfoy knows that he just fucked Harry Potter, and that I have been fucking Harry Potter. And that Harry Potter fucked another man with me before--and--

Harry's heart started hammering. "How can he know?"

"Because I am an _idiot_ who did nothing but stand by and watch while he _marked_ your skin! Don't you see, Harry? If I had Polyjuice potion that turned you into Harry Potter, and then you got injured, but then you took more Polyjuice potion that turned you back into Harry Potter--you would turn into the same, unmarked version of Harry Potter! When your burns were still there, he knew! He knew! Fuck, he probably suspected from the nipple piercings, which would have closed up the moment you took another dose--I am such a _fool_!"

Harry sat up quickly. "He's a Death Eater, isn't he?"

"What difference does that make? I'm a Death Eater."

"He--you--what?"

"I'm a Death Eater, Potter, look." And he rolled up his sleeve and showed Harry a very faint tattoo that looked exactly like the sign that burned in the sky at the Quidditch World Cup. "Don't look at me like that, Potter. Not everyone makes their best life decisions when they're teenagers." He leered at Harry's naked body in emphasis.

"Those other people he mentioned--Nott and Mulciber and the rest--those are Death Eaters too, aren't they?"

"Yes, of course."

"What about Lupin?" Harry asked, slightly hysterically. 

"Calm yourself, Potter, Lupin was only ever a werewolf. You can rest easy knowing that only two Death Eaters and one werewolf have ever been up your arse."

"Will he--will he tell the others? Will they--will they--"

"Of course not," Snape said, but he rushed them both into their clothes and hurried them back to Hogwarts. Snape told Harry that he would write to Lucius immediately and ask him what his intentions were. "But I wouldn't worry, Harry. He will most likely blackmail me into sharing you with him."

"Oh," Harry said. "Well, that wouldn't be so bad, then." Severus smirked at him. And then he offered Harry some Burn Balm, and then he pulled down Harry's trousers and pants so he could apply it, and then he sucked Harry off, and then he rimmed him, and then he fucked him on his hands and knees, and Harry thought he might die it was so good. Then Severus rubbed the balm on his burns and cast a healing spell on his bruised nipples, and--at Harry's request--cast a Disillusionment Charm on the nipple rings so that Harry didn't have to worry about taking off his shirt in front of the other boys. 

"It's a good idea," Severus said. "If any of your dorm-mates saw those rings, they would have to stop what they were doing and shove their pricks up your arse."

Harry laughed. "If _I_ saw those rings, I would need for them to stop what they were doing and shove their pricks up my arse."

Severus chuckled and reached out to grab the now-invisible rings. He used them to pull Harry forward. "Only if I could watch," he whispered.

Harry was just--utterly confused by everything. When he woke up this morning, he was certain he'd been raped by Snape. Right now--it felt like he had--a _relationship_ with Snape. With feelings. And jokes.

But--but--"Why Lucius Malfoy, Snape?"

Snape closed his eyes, and weirdly reached for Harry's hands to hold them. "Lucius wasn't wrong. I wished to...atone for my behaviour the other day."

With Snape, nothing about anything made sense. Harry supposed that this was just another thing. But then Snape kept talking.

"Once--when I was young--Lucius Malfoy helped me--made me feel better--after an older boy had--Lucius made me feel better."

Harry didn't dare breathe. His stomach filled with lead. Was Snape saying what he thought he was saying? Snape opened his eyes, and they were blank. Hard. Empty. 

Sad, though, Harry thought. "I thought--" Harry swallowed--his mouth was so dry he could hardly speak--"I thought you said I would have to wait a while for an apology."

Snape cleared his throat, too. "I lied," he said.

Tears sprang to Harry's eyes, and he leaned forward and kissed Snape chastely on the cheek. _I love you_ got caught in Harry's throat, and he swallowed back against it. Instead he said, "Apology accepted."

Snape just nodded and closed his eyes again.

*

When Harry got back to the dormitory, it already after supper, and Ron asked where he'd been all day. "I mean, if you don't want to talk about it, that's cool--I just worried a bit, that's all."

Harry grinned, though. "You mean Hermione wouldn't stop talking about it and drove you into a state?"

Ron just shrugged. "She has a gift, what can I say?"

The thing was, Harry wanted to talk about it. But then, why couldn't he? He took a breath and said, "Ron--I think--I think I might have a boyfriend."

Ron's eyes got huge. "D'you mean to say, like, a _boyfriend_?"

Harry nodded. "I mean to say."

"You're bent?"

"I think I might be, yeah."

"Who is he?"

"Mmm...I don't want to say."

"What sort of boyfriend-y things have you done?"

Harry flushed, despite himself. Ron hooted. "Harry! You don't sort-of-think-you-might-have-a-boyfriend at all, do you? You most definitely, absolutely, have a boyfriend! Tell me! Did you kiss him? Was there _tongue_? Have you-- _touched his willy_?"

But Harry's face was burning so much, he thought he might catch fire. How could he explain that he'd been letting a man fuck him for about a year now, but suddenly, there seemed to be _feelings_ , and that's what made everything...confusing? He flopped back on the bed. Ron arranged himself next to him, head propped up on his hand. "I'm waiting for any detail you're willing to give, mate."

"Ron...are you bent, or straight?"

"Straight," Ron said. No hesitation.

"How do you know?"

"I don't know--'cause I think girls are prettier, I guess?"

"Have you ever kissed a girl?"

It was Ron's turn to flush. "Not really," he mumbled. "Thought about it plenty of times, though."

Harry had no idea whose situation was more confusing, or embarrassing. He closed his eyes and said, in a very low voice, "Ron, what if I told you I've been messing about with this bloke--messing about _a lot_ , last year--but I didn't--I don't know, I didn't even think that made me bent, or anything, but now--we messed about again today, and it just felt--different." He looked at Ron, who was nodding.

"'Different,' like you think you might be bent now."

"Yeah," Harry said. "Like I might like-- _him_. When before, I think I just liked messing about." On the whole, Harry felt like that summed up the last year--and today--quite well.

Ron turned and flopped down on his back next to Harry. "D'you think he likes you back?"

"Bit afraid to ask, really," Harry said honestly. "But he told me this morning that he'd never met anyone like me."

Ron whistled low. "That sounds like like, Harry."

Harry laughed. It did sound like like, if not like love. They were quiet for a few moments, and then Ron said quietly, "Messing about like how?"

Harry hit him with a pillow.

*

Harry woke up in the middle of the night because his nipples were on fire. They were hot and itchy and achy, and Harry got out of bed as quietly as he could and went to the bathroom so he could get a good look at them. He took off his shirt and saw his nipples were swollen and so dark they were almost black. He couldn't see the rings, of course--Snape had cast that charm on them. " _Finite,_ " he cast, and was able to see the offending silver rings. He suddenly hated them. They didn't look sexy at all, and Harry wanted them gone. But the moment he touched the first ring, it felt like a jolt straight to his heart and lungs, and Harry gasped. _Gone, gone, I need them gone,_ Harry thought slightly desperately, and touched it again and ignored the shooting pains, trying to find a way to open the ring to remove it. 

He couldn't see any sort of clasping mechanism.

There was a possibility that the clasp was inside of his nipple, and he just needed to rotate the ring out. Sweating now, Harry tried to turn the ring, and couldn't help the whimper as his tender flesh refused to let the ring turn. He tried for a few more moments anyway, but had to give up when he started to see spots. He sat down hard on the bathroom floor and tried not to faint. The rings were probably sealed by magic, anyway--when Snape had--done this--had put these things in him--it had seemed like magic at the time. Harry desperately cast _Finite_ , to no avail. 

And so Harry sat on the cold bathroom floor, staring at the nipple rings and trying not to think about how much had happened, but how little had changed. At the start of the year, he wasn't sure if Snape and Lupin had raped him or not, but he did know that he didn't want Snape to fuck him again. Then two days ago, he was back to begging Snape to fuck him, and then Snape used the Cruciatus Curse, and for the first time, Harry knew what it was to be raped _while he was being raped_ \--when before he'd just thought that he didn't like it, or that it hurt, or even that he _did_ like it--but the idea that he didn't _want_ it only occurred to him afterwards. But when Snape threatened him with Cruciatus if Harry didn't make him come, Harry knew--he _knew_ \--that he was being forced to have sex, and that it was rape. But that didn't change anything because today he'd asked Snape to fuck him, then he asked _Lucius Malfoy_ to fuck him, then he'd been fucked by both Snape and Malfoy, and now--the stupid nipple rings made the whole thing feel like--like force. Like rape. But if Snape and Lucius Malfoy had raped him this afternoon, then after they'd raped him, Harry had been fucked (raped?) by Snape again, then come back to Gryffindor Tower and essentially told Ron that he thought that Snape was his _boyfriend_. 

Could sex be force if you liked it? Was asking for something the same as wanting it?

The answers to those questions seemed obvious, which meant that Harry was either sick in the head when Snape was fucking him, or he was sick in the head when Snape was not fucking him. Altogether, he felt much more twisted up and betrayed _now_ than he did when Snape made him come over and over, but all the same...

All the same, Harry really wanted the fucking nipple rings gone. He pointed his wand at the ring on the right, but had no idea for an incantation. Instead he just thought, _go away go away go away_ \--and in the blink of an eye--the ring was gone. Harry didn't question it--he just pointed his wand at the left nipple-- _go away go away go away_ \--and he sobbed when that one disappeared, too. His whole chest still hurt, but he washed it off with soap and water, and that soothed some of the ache, anyway, and he put his shirt back on and went back to bed, and by the time he woke up in the morning, his chest was healed. 


	7. Forced to forget

Severus had a very civil discussion with Lucius on Sunday. They met at the square in Hogsmeade, and Severus cast enough privacy charms that he felt comfortable, and Lucius cast a few of his own, and Lucius said, "Before we begin, Severus, you should know that I have secured the memory elsewhere, and I'll thank you to not try any Memory Modifications on me today."

"I thought you'd say that," Severus said.

Lucius smiled smoothly. "Harry Potter, Severus. How did that even begin?"

"How do these things ever begin, Lucius? Last September, the boy came to me with an offer that he didn't quite understand, and I found I couldn't refuse it."

Lucius raised his eyebrows. "You've had him a full year?"

"I have."

"Long-term plans?"

"Merely to keep him interested until I tire of him. What of your plans, Lucius?"

"Nothing like blackmail, if that's what you're worried about. I would just like...occasional consideration and access."

"I despise sharing, Lucius."

"You seemed to tolerate it well enough. And he certainly enjoyed being shared."

Severus grunted.

"You should know that Narcissa has a very busy social calendar, and leaves the Manor often. Her next scheduled trip is the first weekend of October. I will be quite lonely in the Manor that weekend." Lucius leaned in and kissed Severus on the cheek. "Just think about it."

"Certainly, Lucius. _Obliviate._ I'll be sure to keep you updated on Draco's progress, and send you an owl, if necessary."

Lucius blinked. "Of--of course, Severus, thank you."

Severus went back to Hogwarts, where he didn't have to wait long to get an owl from Lucius. 

My Dearest Severus,

I understand that you had to try, of course, but I'll ask you not to try again, or you may find that I might leave the memory where anyone could see it. I trust that you did at least hear out my proposal before you acted. My offer still stands.

Yours,  
Lucius Malfoy

Severus had been expecting such a message, but he'd hoped against it, anyway.

*

Later that afternoon, Severus went to check on something in his Potions lab and found Mad-Eye Moody already there. "What are you doing here?" Severus demanded.

Mad-Eye fixed both his eyes on Severus and said, "Dumbledore doesn't trust that you're not stockpiling ingredients that could be used for more...nefarious purposes."

"Liar. Dumbledore trusts me completely."

"Alright then, _I_ don't trust you, and if you've got nothing to hide, then there's no harm in me looking, is there? Unless you've got a _problem_ with me looking, in which case we can take this to Dumbledore right now."

Severus _hated_ Mad-Eye. "Fine. Examine all my stores. Let me know if you find any toad livers out of place."

Mad-Eye did, in fact, search through every bottle on every shelf in Severus's personal stores. He even opened a few to sniff them. As the old man put the last bottle back on the shelf, Severus said, "If everything is in order, then?"

"Everything is in order _here_. I'm sure you keep potions supplies in your personal quarters, as well?"

"Oh, yes of course, I keep the armadillo bile right next to my toothpaste. It keeps me on my toes," Severus said sarcastically.

"Or you might suppose that unicorn blood was safer in your nightstand than in the classroom."

"You're not searching my quarters, Moody."

Mad-Eye again fixed both his eyes on Severus. Severus tried not to show he was unnerved by it. Mad-Eye said, "You say Dumbledore trusts you, Snape? Well, he trusts me, too. I'll either search your quarters now, or we'll both go to Dumbledore and we'll find out who he trusts more."

"Of all the--fine. Fine, Moody, come to my quarters, we'll have a cuppa, then you can search through my rooms and see if you can find anything interesting hidden among my pants."

Moody smiled his horrible lopsided smile. "I thought you'd never ask, Snape."

And Moody followed him to his quarters. Severus pushed open the door and gestured Moody to walk in first.

"You don't have this place booby-trapped, do you?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "I don't regularly booby-trap my own front door, Moody."

"That's a no, then?"

"That's a no."

Moody stepped through the door and Severus followed him. "Cosy place you've got," Moody said, as his magical eye swivelled around inside his head. And then the man gasped, "Snape!" His magical rolled to fix on Severus, then rolled off to the side, toward Severus's bedroom.

"Oh dear, have you found my secret stash of dragon liver?" Severus said drily.

"No, Snape--something much better." And Mad-Eye stumped over to Severus's bedroom and threw open the door.

Severus followed in an uproar. "These are not your quarters, Moody! And I'll thank you to not make yourself--"

But Severus registered several things in the wrong order. First, there were robes and clothes in a pile by his bed. He never left dirty clothes by his bed. Second, the bed covers were turned down. Severus made his bed every morning. Third, the robes and clothes by his bed were smaller than Severus's own robes and clothes. There were pants and socks in the pile, too. And finally--Mad-Eye had already stalked over to the corner of the room and was pulling an Invisibility Cloak off a very naked Harry Potter.

Harry stood with his eyes squeezed shut and his hands covering his bits. 

Severus was absolutely gobsmacked. His mind was reeling. Mad-Eye was an Auror--Aurors generally protected themselves from Obliviation--Aurors would be useless if criminals could just make them forget what they saw--and Mad-Eye probably protected himself more than most. Severus could not think of a way to control this situation. It didn't help when Mad-Eye turned to him with a gleam in his non-magical eye that Severus didn't like. The magical eye stayed fixed on Harry. "This is very interesting, Snape," he said. "I would ask you what this is about, but I think I have a pretty good idea."

"Then you're less confused than I am, let me assure you," Severus said. It wasn't even a believable lie, and he hated himself for saying it, but he had to say something.

Mad-Eye laughed, and it raised the hairs on the back of Severus's neck. "I don't think so, Snape. Dumbledore trusts you, you say? Hm." He turned to address Harry. "How long has Snape been buggering you, boy?"

Harry looked terrified. "Er," he said, looking at Severus, then the floor, then glancing at Mad-Eye, then focusing on the floor again. "Erm..."

Mad-Eye laughed. "Not to worry, Potter. I'm sure Snape and I can reach an agreement." And Mad-Eye turned back to Severus with a predatory look. "I'm _sure_ you can think of a way that we can all leave this room happy, Snape." And the man took out his hip flask and took a swig, as if he didn't have a care in the world.

Severus's throat went dry. Moody was repugnant, but Severus never imagined that he would be capable of doing what he seemed to be implying. "Name your price," he said, hoping that maybe Moody would say something different from what he expected.

Moody turned back to look at Harry. Severus himself didn't dare look at the boy. "I think I just want a turn, Snape." Mad-Eye looked back to Severus. "Yes, I think I'd very much like to take a turn. Would you like to watch?"

Harry made a sudden motion, as if he'd finally figured out what was about to happen. "What?" he said. "No--you can't--"

" _Silencio_ ," Severus cast. Harry looked utterly betrayed, but what choice did Severus have? "And no, Mad-Eye. I'd rather not have that particular image burned into my brain." He turned to walk away. 

As he reached the door, he heard Mad-Eye cast, " _Finite. Incarcerous._ "

Harry immediately started pleading. "Snape! Professor! Please--don't--no! No! NOOOOO!"

Severus closed the door without looking back. It didn't block the sound at all. He walked over to his sofa and sat down. He wondered if Mad-Eye was still watching him. 

"Stop, please--ah--AAAH! What're you--NO!" Harry's cries rang out, and Severus covertly cast _Muffliato_ , which of course did not muffle incoming sound. It didn't occur to him until just this moment that he didn't know a single spell to block out sounds. He knew several eavesdropping spells, of course, because nothing in his life had prepared him for this situation.

Harry's sobs were ongoing, but Mad-Eye's grunts were terrible as well. But it was worse when Harry's cries got quieter--because after that, Severus could hear rhythmic squelching.

He put his head in his hands and focused on breathing.

It went on and on--Harry occasionally crying or screaming, Moody saying things like, "Oh, you like that, don't you, Potter?"--along with other sounds that Severus didn't care to identify. It lasted for fifty-six minutes. Severus timed it.

Finally, Mad-Eye came out of Severus's bedroom. He smirked at Severus and took another swig from his flask. Severus glared at him, but he suddenly realised that he had to _try_. He'd tried with Lucius Malfoy, even when he'd been nearly sure the man had safeguarded the memory--Severus couldn't give Moody time to do the same. Now, now, he needed to act now. But he needed to get the man out of his quarters, first--how many walls could that eye see through? 

He followed Moody into the corridor without a word and walked alongside him. 

"I appreciate the escort, Snape, but I know the way to my own quarters." Moody was still smirking. It was horrible on his lopsided face.

Severus continued to walk down the hall. "I have no intention to escort you," he said. They were nearly at the staircase. There, there, Severus could do it there. What if someone was passing by? He had to take the risk--not acting was a far greater risk--

Moody stopped at the bottom step. "Snape--"

" _Obliviate_ ," Severus said. "If you ever search through my stores again without my express permission, I will go directly to Dumbledore." Severus turned around and marched off--hoping, hoping...

"I have the right to search school property, Snape!" Moody said gruffly. 

With his back to Moody, Severus allowed himself a sigh of relief. He kept walking, all the way back to his quarters. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it. Harry was nowhere to be seen.

Severus went into his bedroom.

Harry was face-up on the bed with his arms tied to Severus's bedposts, and his legs were trussed up so that his arse was exposed. His arse was bleeding, but Severus expected that. What he didn't expect was that the backs of the boy's thighs--and his arms--and just about every bit of him, really--were smeared with blood, semen, shit, and piss. Severus did not let himself think about it, instead Vanishing the mess and casting multiple cleaning charms. He then cast a healing charm on the boy, then released him from his bonds. The boy blinked at the ceiling for a few moments before rolling over, right off the bed. He threw up noisily, but got up and walked awkwardly over to his clothes and started pulling them on with rough jerks, without ever once looking at Severus.

"It's your fault, you know," Severus said. "These are my quarters, and you've no right to let yourself in."

"You're the one who gave me the password," Harry mumbled.

"You should have left immediately when you saw I wasn't here." He sighed and Vanished the sick off the floor. Harry managed to get his clothes on and started limping painfully to the door. Severus frowned; he'd healed Harry, so why would he limp? Severus cast a quick diagnostic charm. It showed...splinters? "Harry...what did he..."

"He has a _wooden leg_ ," Harry gritted.

Severus was surprised by the wave of emotions that stirred in him--anger and disgust at Moody, guilt at his own complicity, pity for Harry--but he was suddenly filled with certainty. " _Obliviate_ ," he said, then hurriedly Vanished the splinters and healed the damage they had caused. He was angry with himself; he should have Obliviated Harry last, but he couldn't undo what he'd done. It was probably fine--the fog of the memory charm would probably cover the odd feeling of the healing charm.

Indeed, Harry looked at him in confusion. Severus said, "Come back later in the week, Potter, and I'll fuck your hole to your heart's desire. I'm too busy tonight." He tried to say it lazily, but his voice sounded rough to his own ears. _If only there was someone to Obliviate me_. But perhaps he deserved to remember what he would sacrifice to protect his situation. 

"But," Harry said uncertainly, "I've been waiting for hours."

Severus shrugged, and hoped Harry would leave shortly, but the boy hesitated by the door. He looked directly at Severus. "Professor...Severus. Why is it that you get to decide when we fuck and when we don't?"

Severus blinked at him. "If you don't understand the extent of your victimisation, Potter, find someone else to explain it to you."

"That's just it, though. Maybe I don't want to be a victim, anymore."

"You picked a fine day for it," Severus muttered.

"No time like the present," Harry said, and took a step toward Severus.

Severus had never been less turned on in his life. That this-- _this_ had been what the boy had been thinking about, as he lay naked in Severus's bed, waiting...and Severus had rewarded him by giving him over to the sick depravity of Mad-Eye Moody--but how was Severus to know that the man was such a deviant? Harry had already stepped closer to Severus, and Severus had unconsciously backed up against the wall. He didn't want the boy to touch him, but he couldn't say why--he watched in horror as the boy raised a hand slowly, slowly--and Severus tried not to flinch as the hand gently caressed his face. 

Then Harry was all over him, kissing him and caressing him, and Severus allowed it. Then Harry ran a confident hand over Severus's groin, and pulled back slightly. "You're really not up for a fuck, are you?" the boy asked.

"I told you, no," Severus said, barely a whisper.

"I am," Harry said. "Can I?"

And since Severus thought he deserved it, he said, "Yes."

He didn't know what he expected. A Silencing Charm? Whips and bondage? Perhaps to be sodomized with a wooden leg? But Harry slowly and carefully prepped Severus, and Severus forced himself to allow even the preliminary penetration. "Do you like this?" Harry asked.

"Yes, fine, just get on with it," Severus said.

But Harry stopped and frowned. "You always make me like it."

"Yes, well, perhaps I'm better at it than you."

This was the right thing to say, for Harry set about his task with single-minded determination. He found Severus's prostate, and Severus couldn't help the noise that escaped him. And then Harry giggled, which again stirred such a wide range of emotions in Severus that he didn't know how to process it. So he stopped thinking and gave himself over to sensation. Potter was good with his fingers and tongue, and he used liberal amounts of lubrication. When he finally slid his cock into Severus, he made a small squeaking noise and came almost immediately. And Severus was left with an armful of naked, sweaty, panting, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter. 

Tomorrow, he decided. Tomorrow he would put this whole day out of his mind, and stop thinking about how Harry had come down here today in some sort of misguided effort to equalize their interactions, and instead he had been brutally raped in Severus's own bed. The boy didn't even remember that it happened, Moody didn't remember that it happened--so there was no need for Severus to feel...anything, really, regarding the day's events. But today--today he felt something. Not knowing what to do about his feelings, he wrapped his arms around Potter. 

"I'm sorry," Harry panted. "I didn't mean to...sorry," he mumbled again, and buried his head in Severus's chest. 

It took a moment for Severus to realise why Harry was apologising. Right, they'd just technically had sex. "It's a pity you didn't last longer," Severus said, without any bite.

Harry blinked at him. "I need more practice," he said seriously.

"You need more instruction," Severus countered, and Harry giggled again.

And Severus truly couldn't take another moment of this--this game of what-today-could-have-been, and all of the roiling emotions that he couldn't cope with. He let go of the boy and stood up quickly, putting on his clothes. "Lucius invited us to his Manor the first weekend of October," he said, just to have something to say.

Harry had got rather quiet, so Severus looked at him. "What?" Severus asked.

"Is--is that going to be our thing, now? You and me and Malfoy's dad?"

Severus groaned. "Call him Lucius. And I thought you liked his company."

"I did! I did--I mean--I just--I...I like yours better."

Severus looked at Potter, confounded. And then something occurred to him: "Potter, where are your nipple rings?"

Potter looked away and stammered. "I...er--I decided I didn't like them."

"You didn't...like them. So you...?"

"I got rid of them."

"You got rid of them." They had been unbroken silver rings, sealed by Severus's own not-inconsiderable magic.

"Yeah, last night."

Severus just looked at the boy, who misinterpreted his gaze. Harry started babbling, "I mean--I didn't--I mean, I thought I liked them at first, but then it was like--I dunno. I didn't like them, so having them felt like force, and that made everything feel...like rape. Like you'd raped me, like Malfoy'd raped me, like I woke up in the middle of the night and you were raping me still. So I didn't want to feel like that anymore."

And so, soon after coming hard with Lucius's and Severus's cocks both in his arse, the boy had used nothing but his own stubborn will and untempered magic to remove a mark Severus had left on his body. And then, hours later, this same boy had come to Severus's quarters, stripped down naked, slipped into his bed, and waited for Severus. Severus shook his head. Some emotional instability was to be expected from a teenager, naturally, but Harry certainly had more than his fair share. 

"I know," Harry said. "You'll probably say you raped me again today, and who knows, maybe later on tonight, I'll feel like it, too. But I decided that as long as I like it, I'm going to keep doing it."

"Potter," Severus began--but he didn't know what he'd been planning to say. So instead he said, "Stay away from Mad-Eye Moody."

*

Harry started to spend every Friday night in Severus's rooms. He'd sneak back into his own dormitory late at night--or sometimes shortly before dawn--and he didn't know if anyone other than Ron even knew he was gone. Ron knew Harry was meeting his "boyfriend," and didn't press Harry for details--much--and covered for Harry's absences. 

But then Ron asked if he could tell Hermione that Harry was seeing someone. "She's worried about you," Ron said. "If I could just tell her _something_..."

"You didn't tell her?"

"No, of course not. I thought you would tell her when you were ready, but I think I'm going to be ready long before you are, mate."

So Harry decided to tell Hermione the same thing he'd told Ron. He took Hermione and Ron to an empty classroom one Sunday morning after breakfast to have what he'd hoped was a nice conversation to clear the air.

"The reason I've been gone so much is because I'm, er, seeing someone."

"Seeing someone?" Hermione said, and looked at Ron. "For how long?"

"Er, about a year, yeah."

"A _year_ , Harry? Who is she?"

Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged. Harry took a breath. "Er--I'd rather not say." Hermione glared at him, and Ron cleared his throat. "And, er--it's a he," he mumbled.

"I'm sorry, did you say 'it's a he'?"

"Erm, yeah. Yeah, I did." Harry glanced at Hermione, but couldn't hold her gaze.

"How serious is it?"

"It's not--I don't know. I'm not ready to marry him, if that's what you're asking."

"Are you having sex with him?"

Ron let out a nervous giggle, and Harry tried, he tried, he tried, not to flush. He failed.

"Are you having sex with him, Harry?"

"Erm--er--"

"Yes or no, Harry--I won't judge you either way."

Harry blinked and looked at her. "Sorry, it doesn't feel that way right now."

Ron said, "Blimey."

Hermione sat down in a desk. "Harry," she said slowly. "Can wizards get AIDS?" Harry's stomach sank--that had never occurred to him. Hermione looked at Ron, who looked supremely confused. This comforted Harry a bit, and seemed to have the same effect on Hermione. But she wasn't done, nowhere near it. "There are all other sorts of diseases you can catch--have you been using condoms? Or probably some spell that works the same way?"

Harry honestly didn't know. Hermione picked up on this, of course, and kept firing off questions. "Have you had sex with other blokes? Has _he_?"

Yes, both of those things, at the same time. Harry sat down at another desk and put his head in his hands. "Maybe," he mumbled.

"Harry," Hermione said quietly. "Is he older?"

No. No, he was not going to answer that question.

"Is he older like a seventh-year? Because that's illegal in the Muggle world--is it illegal in the Wizarding world?"

It probably _was_ a crime. It was probably called _rape_. How could Harry have been living this life for a year and still not really understand--he used fumbling words like "seeing someone"--and Hermione just got a glimpse--the barest of glimpses--and she went almost directly to "rape." 

And she was right, Harry knew she was right. But he had to do something before he started crying into his hands, in this abandoned classroom on a Sunday morning, in front of his friends. "I'm gay, Hermione, not a rape victim," he said firmly, wishing he could make it true. 

"But he's older than you."

"No! I mean--yes, but not, like, by a _lot_." Less than thirty years.

"And you're having unprotected sex with him. And you're just fourteen, Harry!"

Fourteen wasn't so young, but still. Harry was glad that she didn't know he'd been thirteen for most of it.

"And you were just thirteen last year!"

"We didn't have sex last year," Harry said. No, he'd been raped last year. This year was different, though. It felt different--he was calling Snape "Severus" now, and he'd put his cock in Severus's arse, which felt like growing up. And he wasn't being passed between two men. At least, not as often as last year. For some reason, Harry thought of Mad-Eye Moody, and he felt his gorge rise. He suppressed it, not knowing why he thought of the man, nor why it made him sick. _Never mind_ , he told himself--it was probably because Moody had replaced Lupin as Defence professor--and his eye was really creepy.

Hermione sighed. "Are you okay, Harry?"

"I'm great," Harry said automatically. "I just wanted to let you know that I have a boyfriend, is all."

"I just worry about you. Unprotected sex is dangerous--at least in the Muggle world--I'll do some research and let you know what I find about the Wizarding world--"

Harry groaned.

"--And Harry, if he is older, he may be taking advantage of you, and I just hate to think about that."

Harry had no doubt that Snape was taking every advantage of him.

"You can talk to me anytime, you know that, right?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, then I'm off to the library. I need to look some things up." And she left Ron and Harry alone in the classroom.

Harry looked at Ron awkwardly. 

"Hermione Granger," Ron said bracingly. "Researching gay wizard sex in the Hogwarts school library. How does that make you feel, Harry?"

Harry snorted, and then they both started giggling. "Have you ever been able to lie to her?" Harry asked.

"Not well. Probably about as well as you. Is he a lot older than you?"

Harry shrugged. "How much older can he be before it's creepy?"

Ron thought about it, then shrugged. "Depends, really. Does he like you?"

Harry shrugged.

"Has he ever wanted to do something you're uncomfortable with?"

 _I don't think it's possible to rape you_ , Snape had said. It filled Harry with shame, to think about it now, but at the time--he hadn't been _comfortable_ , certainly, but...he'd known his place. He was uncomfortable with the Cruciatus Curse, certainly, but Severus as good as promised he would never do that again.

Harry must have been quiet for too long, because Ron said flatly, "He has."

Harry shrugged. "He apologised later, and he hasn't done it again."

"Do you think he will? Do it again?"

"No. I don't think so. He really--he really apologised." If tying him up and giving him over to another man to be fucked was an apology, now? It felt like it at the time. Harry's insides were starting to twist again, in the way that he'd decided he didn't want them to. So he said, "Ron, is there a particular girl you like?"

Ron flushed crimson and looked away. "Yes."

"Don't worry--I won't ask who--but what if she were here right now and she wanted to kiss you? And it was just you and her, and she wanted to kiss you with _tongue_."

Ron squeaked and shifted.

"Would you be a bit uncomfortable?" Harry asked, and Ron nodded. Harry pressed on, "Would you let her kiss you, anyway?" Ron nodded again, more gravely this time. "It's like that with--with him. He sometimes wants to do things that I'm uncomfortable with, at first. But then I like it." Harry nodded to himself. "I like it," he repeated firmly. It wasn't rape at all--it never had been.


	8. Whore

The weeks marched on without much change--except that Hermione reported back to him that wizards weren't susceptible to Muggle sexually transmitted diseases. "But," she said, "there are some odd things that I think are worse than Muggle diseases. For example, there are Firefarts, which are pretty self-descriptive, really..." she had to pause her lecture because Harry couldn't help his giggles.

"It would be like a dragon," he said, "but backwards!"

She rolled her eyes at him, but continued with her lecture. Firefarts were the funniest thing about it, really.

And then Harry had developed an odd hatred for Mad-Eye Moody. He didn't understand it--he supposed that it had something to do with the way his eyes had gleamed when he'd cast the Unforgivable Curses on their first day of class--or maybe with the warning Snape had given him to stay away--but that didn't explain why he felt almost physically sick every time he heard the _thunk, thunk, thunk_ of Moody's wooden leg stomping up the classroom. It just seemed sinister.

But the first Friday of October, when Harry was just getting up from bed to leave Snape's rooms but before he'd put on his clothes, Snape said, "Come back tomorrow morning, ten o'clock."

Harry stopped. That sounded like--like--like the last time, when--

"We're going to Malfoy Manor, Potter, stop looking like a whipped puppy. Lucius wants to fuck you and I want to watch."

That sounded--awful, really awful. Harry didn't know why it made him get hard. "You make it sound so romantic," he griped.

"Yes, you seem terribly put off by it," Snape said, with a glance at Harry's cock, standing at attention.

"I'm not--I'm not your _toy_."

Severus smiled, that terrible smile that destroyed Harry. "You are my toy, Harry," he said smoothly, and Harry squeaked, which would have been embarrassing, but he was _so hard_. "Touch yourself, Harry." Harry did--he wrapped his hot hand around his cock and pulled on it slowly, not looking away from Snape for a moment. Snape's eyes followed Harry's hand, then locked on Harry's eyes. He smiled again. "Tell me: what was your favourite part, the last time Lucius had his way with you?"

"It was--" Harry's voice was a whisper, and he had to clear his throat. "It was--your eyes--his cock in my arse and you couldn't look away--god--like you--like you--and I wanted you inside me, too--" Harry's voice had started out shaky, and now he was practically whining. He kept tugging on his cock, and Snape's eyes were--were the only thing--"And then--and then you pushed in--god--Severus--you--" and Harry came all over his hand. Before Harry could think, Severus grabbed his hand and licked the come off his fingers. "I am--" Harry gasped. "I am your toy."

Severus bit down on Harry's finger and slapped his bare arse. "You are absolutely my toy, and I decide when I share you. Tomorrow morning, ten o'clock."

*

The next morning, Harry knocked on Severus's door fifteen minutes early. Severus pulled him inside and fucked him hard against the closed door. Severus summoned his favourite pestle just before he came, and after his own cock slid out of Harry's arse, he shoved the pestle roughly in its place. He didn't intend to shove quite as hard as he probably did, but Harry didn't seem to mind and Severus wasn't in any state to go about it gently.

"I have...plans...for today," Severus panted.

"Brilliant," Harry breathed, and thunked his head back against the door.

Severus collected Harry, who was rather loose-limbed considering the rod up his arse, and used the Floo to travel to Malfoy Manor. They arrived in a small sitting room--small for the Manor, anyway--just as Severus had arranged with Lucius. He guided Harry to the middle of the room, stripped off the boy's clothes, and forced him to kneel. He kicked the boy's knees apart so that he was fully on display. Then he leaned down to whisper in Harry's ear, "Lucius always gets what he wants, Harry. But first, he'll make you want it, too." Harry whimpered and nodded.

But Severus could already hear Lucius's footsteps coming down the corridor, so he moved away from Harry, into a back corner of the room. Lucius opened the door and saw Harry first. He quickly shut the door behind him. "Harry Potter," he breathed, then looked up and saw Severus. Lucius smiled. "And Severus. This is a nice greeting indeed," he said, gesturing at the naked boy.

"Let me explain what the rules are for today, Lucius," Severus said. "I will consent for the boy. If you want to do something to him, you ask me. He will abide by my decision, as will you."

On the floor, Harry moaned.

Severus said, "As for Potter, he will refrain from speaking, is that clear?"

Potter nodded, and Lucius looked concerned. "Can you speak, Harry?"

Harry glanced at Severus, which was--which was perfect. Sometimes, the boy was perfect. Severus smiled and said, "I have not silenced him. Tell him, Harry."

"I can talk, yeah," Harry said to Severus.

"Harry," Lucius said, and the boy turned to face him. "It's important that I know what you like. Are you--are you sure you want to do this?"

Harry worked his jaw for a bit. "Ask the professor," he finally whispered--which was--which was Severus's favourite thing that had happened in a while. Harry hadn't used his title in months, and for him to use it now--

"Severus, does Harry really want this?"

Severus tutted at Lucius. "That's not how you ask for my consent, Lucius."

Lucius blinked. "Severus, do you want this?"

"I do," he said silkily, and Harry made a small whimper.

"Can--can I touch him, Severus?"

"Yes."

And Lucius ran his hands all over Harry, and Harry leaned into it but didn't move from the floor.

"Where are your nipple rings? Where are his nipple rings?"

Severus shrugged. "He removed them."

"Can I pierce him again?"

Severus didn't even think about it. "Only if you don't do the permanent variation."

Lucius conjured a needle and two small silver bars, and moved behind Harry. "Would you care to watch, Severus?" he asked.

Severus smiled and walked around to face the boy. "Studs, this time?" Severus asked.

"Naturally. These are for decoration, not restraint." Lucius reached down with the needle and paused with it just at Harry's nub. 

Harry didn't flinch. He locked eyes with Severus, and shifted his knees slightly, making his erection bob, and then--and then Lucius very slowly--very slowly--started to push the needle through Harry's nipple. It must have been torture for the boy, but Harry's eyes remained on Severus and he remained silent, even as sweat broke out along his forehead. "Do you like this, Severus?" Lucius asked, just as the tip finally pushed through the other side of the nub. 

Harry let out the breath he'd clearly been holding, and started breathing very deeply. "I like it very much," Severus whispered. Lucius followed the needle slowly, slowly, with the delicate silver stud. He screwed on the end carefully. 

"Are you ready for the other one?"

"Yes," Severus breathed.

Lucius did the second piercing just as slowly, but this time Harry bit his lips. He didn't once look away from Severus, not until the tip of the needle exited Harry's nipple. Then the boy closed his eyes, whined, and came messily all over the floor. 

Lucius laughed. "My, my." Lucius inserted the second ring and fastened it. Then he tweaked Harry's nipples and kissed the top of his head. "Severus--I confess I had other plans for today, but perhaps--perhaps you'll consent to those in a bit. First, I must have him. May I?"

"You may," Severus said, and Lucius wasted no time pushing the boy forward onto his hands and knees. He found the ball end of the pestle and rubbed his hand up against it, making Harry moan. 

Lucius made a small noise of surprise. "May I take this out?"

"Please," Severus said.

And Lucius slowly pulled at the pestle, and Harry made a pained sound. Lucius stopped and kissed Harry's arse cheek. "Remember, Harry, Severus wants this." And he firmly pulled the pestle out, and with it spilled out much of Severus's come from earlier. Lucius laughed. "Marking your territory, Severus? How delightfully primitive. Don't worry--I know he is yours." Lucius lined up his cock with Harry's hole, but stared at Severus. "I could hardly forget--" he shoved his cock in--"that he--is yours--"

And the man slammed into Harry, with very little of his usual grace. Harry stared at Severus as he took Lucius's cock, and took it, and took it--and before Severus decided what he was going to do, he strode up to Harry, pulled his cock out, grabbed the boy by the hair, and forced his cock into the boy's mouth. Harry took it willingly, just as he took Lucius's cock in his arse, and the men rocked Harry between them, the delicious push and pull, and Harry moaned and moaned on Severus's cock, and Severus came right down Harry's throat, and Harry swallowed it all.

Lucius groaned, apparently having finished already. Severus hadn't even noticed.

"I don't have time for this today," Lucius muttered. "Severus, I need your consent for something, but I want you to hear me out first."

Lucius reached out and tugged gently on one of Harry's nipples. Harry squirmed into it. "I've done research since our last outing. Piercings hold through Polyjuice transformations, while skin marks do not." Lucius ran his hands over the boy. "I wish to use Polyjuice on Harry Potter--change him into different people--and allow a third party to fuck him."

"I believe that technically, it would be a fourth party."

"I want Harry to be a girl, and then a boy. I want him fucked as each, in that order."

"Who is the fourth party?" Severus asked.

Lucius continued to run his hands all over the boy. Harry raised into it, but Lucius stayed silent.

"I would have to be present," Severus said.

"Out of the question," Lucius said.

"Then, no," Severus said.

"Severus...it is a delicate..."

"You want my consent--tell me what I am consenting to! Who is the fourth party?"

Lucius ran his finger around Harry's hole. Harry ground against it, and Lucius slipped his finger in. "Is this acceptable?"

"Yes, of course," Severus said impatiently. 

Lucius finger-fucked Harry, slowly and lazily. "I have long wondered--how much my son takes after me. Specifically, if he is homosexual. If he is, there are workarounds, of course, especially if he finds an open-minded wife as I have. But it's best to know the obstacles one must face as soon as possible, Severus."

Severus watched Harry buck mindlessly into Lucius's fingers, and felt his rage mounting. He didn't know where the rage came from or why, but he had always heeded it. "Absolutely not," he said coldly. 

Lucius looked at him in confusion as he continued to work his hands in Harry. "But why not? I've already secured enough doses of Polyjuice, and Harry is a safe option--"

"Take your hands off the boy--we're leaving." 

"Severus."

"NO!" Severus screamed, and Harry jumped and pulled away from Lucius. "What you seem to have lost sight of, Lucius--in the midst of your little consent fantasies--is that all of this is morally reprehensible! To bring Draco into this--no. I will not be a part of that. Harry, put on your clothes."

Harry did so, and Lucius looked at him, mouth agape. "Severus! If you're worried that Draco is too young--he's the same age as Harry!"

"And we are raping Harry!"

"Not this again," Harry muttered, but the boy kept putting on his clothes.

Lucius hissed, "Are you afraid? Afraid that once Harry is with someone his own age he'll lose his taste for older men?"

Of all the ridiculous things Lucius could have said. Harry was fully dressed and was just putting on his robes. "Come here, Harry," Severus said, and Harry did. "Do you want Draco Malfoy to fuck you today?"

Harry frowned and whispered, "Are you really asking me?"

Severus snorted. "Yes, Potter. The game is over for the day. Do you want Draco Malfoy to fuck you?"

"Not--not especially."

"Listen to me carefully: if you ever get the urge to fuck Draco Malfoy, that is your business. Fuck him, don't fuck him--I don't care either way. And Lucius, Draco's first sexual experiments should not so closely resemble _rape_. Hire a prostitute if you must--at least they would get payment for their services."

Lucius huffed. "Your morals are inconsistent, to say the least, Severus. How many children have you defiled over the years?"

"I have never called it anything but rape, _Lucius_. And I would never implicate _your son_ in my crimes."

Lucius's gaze became flinty. "But the son of Lily Evans?"

"LILY EVANS IS DEAD!" Severus roared, and grabbed Harry and practically dragged him through the Floo. Unfortunately, that meant the Harry arrived in Severus's rooms, angry and confused, just when Severus would really rather be alone. 

Harry started in immediately. "You don't want Draco Malfoy to fuck me, because you want to protect _Draco_? Why should Draco need protection, and why do I suddenly feel like you don't give a toss about me?"

"Draco Malfoy is used to the finest things, Potter, and exposing him to your sorry situation is unthinkable. As to your second question--you've always been slow to notice the obvious."

Harry's face darkened but he didn't leave. He stood panting, staring at Severus.

"Is there anything else you wish to discuss, Potter, or would you be so kind as to leave my quarters immediately?"

Potter's face contorted, and he gritted out, "Did you rape my mum?"

Severus had not been ready for that question. It literally took his breath away. 

Harry rushed over to Severus and managed to land one good punch before Severus recovered and defended himself. "DID YOU RAPE MY MUM?" Harry screamed as he wildly tried to hit Severus again. "DID YOU RAPE HER?" Severus kicked Harry's feet out from under him and pinned him the floor, but the boy still screamed, "DID YOU? DID YOU? ARE YOU--ARE YOU MY--MY--"

Potter couldn't complete his thought. Which was good, really, because even the shadow of the question destroyed Severus. He let go of Harry and rolled off to the side, panting. Harry covered his face with his hands and turned away.

After some time, Severus said, "I never had sex with Lily Evans, with or without her consent."

"What did--what did Lucius mean about--he said--"

"I had few friends when I was younger, Potter, but your mother was one of them."

"But he said--you raped--"

"Potter, stop talking immediately and listen. Lucius knows something of my proclivities. He simply expressed confusion that I would count the son of Lily--a former friend--among my victims."

"You're not--you're not my father?" The boy's voice had a wistful, almost regretful edge to it. Severus chose not to analyse it.

"Your father is James Potter. Look in a mirror if you doubt it."

Potter gave Severus a long look. "How many other kids have you raped?"

Severus looked at the boy impassively.

The boy blinked. "Are you raping anyone else right now? What about last year?"

"Why? Are you jealous?"

"I think I deserve to know!"

"I am not your lover, Potter, any more than I am your father. Curious that you seem to wish me to be both." There was deep emotional confusion on the part of the child. Perhaps this was why Severus had always Obliviated his victims in the past.

Potter flushed, which looked rather pretty on him. "Then what are you? What am I to you?"

"You are my victim. I am your abuser."

"You take what you want, and I take what you give?"

"Precisely, Potter. It gratifies me to know that you do listen occasionally."

"But I'm yours. You told me over and over--I'm yours. And you just said, you're _my_ abuser-- _mine_. You're mine, and I'm yours."

That was just--the most optimistic view imaginable. Severus was horrified and intrigued by the mental gymnastics the boy must have done to reach such a conclusion.

"Take what you want now, Severus," Harry said, and slowly started removing his robes. Severus watched. The boy took off his shirt--exposing his shiny new nipple piercings--Lucius was right--they were an excellent decoration--and then Harry took off his trousers, shoes, socks, and pants. He was only half-hard for all his bravado. "Take what you want. I'm yours--I'll take what you give."

Severus could not turn down such an offer.

*

Harry hadn't thought through what it meant that Severus had defied Lucius, but a week later, he got an owl from Lucius Malfoy. In it, Lucius said that his silence about their arrangement wasn't for Harry's sake, but for Severus's. "After all," Lucius argued in the letter, "you would not suffer from the emergence of the truth, but Severus would lose his position, his reputation, his standing--in short, he would lose everything." Lucius went on to say that Severus didn't care about any of that, if it meant sharing Harry, but (Lucius said) did Harry really mind being shared? If it meant that Severus could keep his job and reputation?

And truthfully, Harry _had_ been looking at Draco Malfoy more often lately. He was a sneering, snobby, stuck-up prig, as always, but he was very good-looking. And he did have nice hands. And maybe he wasn't high on the list of people Harry wanted to fuck, but on the surface, Severus Snape shouldn't be high on that list, either. So probably Draco Malfoy wouldn't be that bad.

Harry sent word back to Lucius, asking when they could meet. He didn't want to say too much in a letter, so he hinted that he could sneak into Hogsmeade most evenings and weekends, and Lucius wrote back immediately and said that the following Wednesday evening would be ideal.

It should have been more difficult, but Harry snuck out of the castle using the secret passageway behind the hump-backed witch and was able to find Lucius, who Apparated them both to the same house where he and Severus had fucked Harry the first time.

Harry felt a bit nervous--if he was going to be fucked by Draco, why weren't they at the Manor?--but he supposed that maybe Lucius didn't want his wife to find out.

"You don't mind being shared, do you, Harry?" Lucius asked, and Harry shrugged. Lucius turned Harry to look at him. He ran his smooth hands over Harry's face and neck, and leaned down to kiss Harry soundly. Lucius was so much more gentle than Severus, and Harry felt warm all over by the time Lucius pulled back. "Do you like being with different men sometimes, Harry?"

"Yeah--yeah," Harry said. 

"I thought so," Lucius said, and ran his hand down Harry's back, over his arse. "Do you want to take off your clothes, Harry?"

Harry didn't, really, but it seemed like a logical step if he was going to do what he came here for, so he stripped off all his clothes. Lucius looked at him hungrily, then ran his hands over Harry's piercings. "You kept them this time?"

Harry had. He sometimes wanted to take them out, but he felt like if he did, then it was like admitting that he didn't want them, or any of this. And he did. He _did_. 

Lucius slipped his hands all over Harry. "I'm happy to see them. They look good on you." He ran a hand down Harry's crack and shoved a finger inside Harry's hole. "Does that feel good, Harry?"

"Y--yeah," Harry gasped. "Are you going to fuck me?"

"If you want me to, Harry."

"Yes--yes, please," Harry said. The weird thing was, he didn't really want to. He was still a little nervous--the last person he'd fucked without Severus in the room was Lupin--and the further away memories of Lupin got, the scarier they seemed to Harry. But Lucius was familiar, anyway--so maybe getting fucked by him would make everything seem easier. And Lucius did make Harry feel good--and this time was no exception. Lucius prepped Harry carefully, and by the time the man finally thrust his cock in Harry's arse, Harry wanted it very badly. And when Harry asked Lucius to touch him, Lucius obliged and wrapped his smooth hand around Harry's cock and stoked him until he came. And Harry even welcomed it when Lucius grabbed Harry's hips hard and thrust in brutally until Lucius came himself. 

After he'd recovered a bit, Lucius said, "I have a friend, Harry, and--if you don't mind, he'd like to take a turn with you."

The phrase made something jangle in Harry's mind, and his heart started banging in his chest. And what did Lucius mean-- _friend_? Wasn't this--wasn't it supposed to be Draco?

Lucius reached out a hand and stroked Harry, touching him all over. "Calm yourself, Harry--the moment you say stop, we stop, do you hear me?" Lucius licked Harry's ear and slipped a finger inside his hole. "Do you hear me, Harry?" Lucius said, as he added more fingers and Harry nodded and moaned. "You can do whatever you want, Harry--no one is forcing you. This is just what you are choosing to do to keep Severus safe, right?" Lucius crooked his fingers, and Harry bucked against them. "Good boy. It's just fucking--and you like being shared. Oh, you do like it--and my friend--he's not terribly sophisticated, Harry--but he'll enjoy fucking you. And I'll be there the whole time--and if you want to stop, just say the word. If Severus doesn't want to share you, then it's up to you to decide how far you want to go to protect him, right Harry?"

It sounded reasonable enough, and it was just one other man. Harry nodded.

"Good, Harry, good. Do you want to meet Avery, now?"

"Yes," Harry said, because this didn't seem like a good time to say 'no.'

Avery was wiry and wore too much cologne and his hands were rough. He had a mean smile and he didn't say much--or even do much, really--except to bend Harry over the bed and shove his cock inside Harry's arse. Harry tried to arch into it to get a better angle, but Avery just shoved and pushed and thrust, and Harry eventually gave up trying and just waited him out. It wasn't the worst sex Harry'd had--but it wasn't great. After Avery came, Lucius said, "Wait--don't pull out yet." And then Lucius showed Harry something in his hand. It was the pestle. "You left this in my home when you left so abruptly the other day. I'd like to return it to Severus." Then Lucius pushed Avery back and shoved the pestle hard into Harry's arse. Harry cried out because he hadn't been prepared for it--the thing was huge, after all--but Lucius ran a soothing hand over his bum. "Good, Harry, good. I'm giving a lot of things back to Severus tonight. Good boy, Harry. _Stupefy_."

And Harry's world went black until he was awoken with a " _Renervate_." He was still naked, still in the house--he still had a pestle up his bum--but Lucius and Avery were gone. Severus was standing over him, looking thunderous. "What happened?" he demanded.

"Er..." Harry didn't know where to start. What business did Snape have, looking upset?

"Who did this to you?" Snape said.

"Er, Lucius? And his friend. What time is it, how long have I been here? What are you doing here?"

"Who was his friend?"

"Er, I didn't know him. Abey? Avery?"

The bed underneath Harry caught fire, and Harry cried out and stumbled away from it. He landed on the floor awkwardly, trying not to jostle the pestle. Severus cursed and put out the fire, then turned his attention to Harry. "Take that thing out of your arse," Severus demanded.

Right--Harry could do that. It was just that he didn't usually do that part himself. He reached behind himself and _pulled_ , and god, it hurt, but he bore down and pushed and pulled with his hands, and it came out in a mess of sticky ejaculate. Severus had been watching Harry intently, and when Harry finally held the messy pestle in his hand, Severus gave an odd cry and Vanished the pestle. "Why did you let him fuck you?" Severus screamed. "You stupid--whore--will you let anyone up your arse?"

This was hardly fair. "I did it for you, you git! Lucius said he could get you sacked, just because you don't like sharing, but I don't mind being shared, Severus! I don't want you to get sacked!"

"Do you have any idea who Avery is--what he has done?"

Harry looked at Snape blankly. Hadn't he just said he didn't know Avery?

"Oh, Lucius is so clever. I should have--Lucius! Lucius, I know you're still here!"

" _Finite_ ," said Lucius's voice from the corner, and suddenly Lucius was standing in the corner, holding his wand, lowering it carefully to the floor. "Severus? You called?"

"I thought you wanted _Draco_ to fuck the boy," Severus spat.

Lucius smiled. "I want your _consent_ to let Draco fuck the boy."

" _Avery_ , Lucius? After--after everything--"

"Hush. He wasn't so bad, was he, Harry? Did he hurt you, was it good?"

Baffled, Harry tried to say the right thing. "He--he didn't hurt me. He wasn't--he wasn't good, though."

Lucius laughed. "I wouldn't imagine so. Severus? Do you have an opinion?"

Snape worked his jaw, and Harry was suddenly afraid. But when Snape finally spoke, all he said was, "You have my consent."

"Good," Lucius said.

"Wait," Harry said.

" _Silencio_!" Severus roared. "You are incapable of choosing for yourself, so from now on, I will decide for you! If I say someone can fuck you, they can fuck you! But understand me when I say--you will not let Avery NEAR YOU AGAIN! _Crucio_!" 

And Harry was consumed with burning pain. Inside his muscles, inside his joints, inside his bones--his brain, his eyes, his _teeth_ \--pain--

And then Snape cancelled the spell, and Harry found himself shaking on the floor. _Snape had used the Cruciatus on him again._ He wanted to die--he thought he could trust Snape for this one thing--just one thing, really--but now he was betrayed and--

And he could barely control his muscles, but he felt himself being rolled over, and Snape pushed his cock roughly inside Harry's arse. Harry couldn't cry out--couldn't fight the man's weight on him--and tears leaked out of his eyes as Snape thrust in over and over and over. "If you want to be raped, Potter, _I_ will rape you," he said, in a cold whisper. And then he bit down hard on Harry's shoulder and pulled his hair and scratched his sides and fucked Harry so hard into the floor that it bruised his hips. And Harry hated it--oh, he hated it, but then Snape pulled at Harry's hips and shoved his knees up under him so that his arse was in the air, and shoved back inside of Harry--and it hit him, just right--just there--and Harry couldn't help it--he met Severus's next thrust as best he could--and Severus growled and swirled his hips. "You're mine--" Snape said. "You're my--" And he pulled Harry up again, on his hands and knees now, still thrusting in Harry's arse, but now pulling on Harry's cock. "Come for me, you slag. Show me how you like it when I fuck you!"

And Harry did exactly that.

*

Harry got back to Gryffindor very late. He was wrecked, he was confused--three different men had come inside his arse tonight--which seemed like a lot more than two, and two was reasonable, two was normal--but three?--and then Snape had promised his arse to a different person entirely. He felt--used. And that was without the Cruciatus, which was a whole other issue.

He tried to sleep, but he couldn't. Finally, in desperation, he woke up Ron.

"Harry," Ron mumbled. "You're back--I's worried."

"Yeah," Harry whispered.

"You okay, mate?"

Harry couldn't answer that question. "Do you want to play chess?" he said instead.

Ron looked at him for several long seconds. "Sure," he finally said. "Let's go downstairs."

Ron beat Harry twice, without once asking what had happened that night. It was exactly what Harry needed. At the end of the second game, Harry whispered, "He did--he did the thing again tonight. The thing he promised me he wouldn't do again."

Ron started to set up the board again. "Did you kick his arse to the kerb?"

Harry looked away.

"Do you think he'll do it again?" Ron said.

"I don't know--if he's really angry."

"Was he angry tonight?"

Harry nodded.

"Why?"

_Because I fucked someone else._ Harry tried it out in his head, decided against it, then opened his mouth and said, "I fucked someone else."

Ron dropped a chess piece, then snatched it up. "When?"

Harry stood up and walked over to the fireplace. Someone had left their History of Magic book on the mantle. Harry picked it up and threw it across the room. The fireplace tools--the shovel and the broom and the poker-- _Lucius had burned his hips with something just like this--it had made Harry come_ \--Harry threw those, too. He turned around and shoved the squashy armchair and kicked over a small table and broke a lamp and his hand was hurting and he screamed and his foot was hurting and he sat down hard on the carpet. 

Ron hadn't moved, and watched him with owlish eyes. 

Harry said, "Ron, my life is messed up."

Ron cleared his throat. "Hermione--Hermione's been lecturing to me a lot lately. She says that coerced sex is rape."

Harry frowned. He didn't want to talk about rape, not tonight, but--"What's 'coerced'?"

"That's what I said! And she said it would be like--if I wanted help with my homework, and Hermione said, 'okay, but you have to have sex with me.'" Ron's face burned crimson.

"Is it coerced if someone holds you down on the floor, puts a Silencing Charm on you, shoves his cock in your arse, and fucks you until he comes?"

Ron looked stunned. "I--I think so. I guess it depends on if you want it?"

Harry snorted. "Let's say that when he does that, you come before he does--what then?"

Ron swallowed. He whispered, "Is he a lot older than you?"

Harry locked his eyes with Ron's and nodded. Ron opened his mouth, but Harry was already having second thoughts. "Don't tell Hermione!" he begged. "I can sort this out--but please, please don't tell her."

Ron studied him. "How will you sort it out?"

Harry put his head in his hands. "I don't know--I don't know."

"Are you planning on seeing him again?"

"Yes," Harry whispered. Of course he would see Snape in Potions class, but he knew that's not what Ron meant. But the answer was still _yes_ \--before they left the house tonight, Severus had sorted out with Lucius that Draco would fuck Harry--under Polyjuice potion--on Friday. Severus would escort Harry to the Manor, and then escort him back home after it was over. 

"What about this other bloke? Are you going to see him again?"

Harry shrugged. He'd see Lucius again--probably even get fucked by him again just before Draco got his turn--but he'd probably not see Avery again. Avery had seemed to be more about Severus than about Harry.

"Do you want to see either one of them again?"

Harry thought about it. Lucius--maybe. Avery--no. Severus--absolutely not, never--but Harry knew that he wouldn't stay away from Severus for long. "When--when things are good with--with _him_ \--it's--it's like we both want the same thing. And it's good."

Ron was giving him an odd look.

"It's good!" Harry insisted. "He--he's good."

"Tell me about him," Ron said. "Tell me why you like him. Make me like him."

"He--he--he's clever."

There was an uncomfortable pause. "Uh-huh," Ron said.

"He's got really intense eyes. And a good voice."

Ron seemed to be waiting for more, but he finally said, "Clever, intense eyes, good voice. Is he nice?"

No. Not even a little. Not even sometimes. Except after Remus had--on the night of the full moon--and Severus had healed him, and made him feel normal by fucking him. "Sometimes," Harry said.

"When?"

"Er--I got hurt, one time, and he took care of me."

"How did you get hurt? Did he hurt you?"

Harry shuddered. "No, it wasn't him--it was--it wasn't him."

"Is he funny? Does he make you laugh?"

"Er--at all the wrong times, yes."

"Like when?"

"I don't know--he just teases me, and I tease him back."

"If you like him so much, why did you have sex with another bloke?"

Because the _other_ bloke he'd been having sex with had made it sound like he had to? Harry shrugged hopelessly--he didn't know how to explain that. 

"Do you want to talk about the thing he did again tonight that he promised to never do again?"

"Not--not particularly."

"Is it a sex thing?"

"No."

"Has he raped you?"

"I don't--I don't want to talk about this anymore, okay?"

Ron nodded. "I won't tell Hermione."

*

Ron told Bill.

Ron had always trusted Bill. And Bill and Harry had met for the first time just a few months before, for the Quidditch World Cup, and instead of acting like instant brothers--like Harry and Fred and George did--Bill and Harry both acted very weird. Harry had been terribly shy and Bill had been terribly cautious.

And then one night when Harry was getting ready for bed, Ron went downstairs for a drink of water. He overheard Bill and Mum talking in the kitchen.

"--about Harry," Bill was saying. "I just get a bad feeling."

Ron stopped outside the door and listened.

Mum sighed heavily. "Leave it to you to pick up on that so quickly. Yes, Harry comes from a difficult home."

"Do they hit him?" Bill asked baldly, and Ron stopped breathing.

"I don't think they beat him. But I don't think they touch him in kindness, either."

Ron had some ideas about that--the kind of ideas that made his chest feel tight and his jaw hurt. He turned around and went back upstairs, trying not to think of bars on windows or locks on the outside of bedroom doors.

And then later, just before he left for Egypt, Bill took Ron aside. "Has Harry changed recently?" he asked.

Ron shrugged. "He was gone a lot from Gryffindor last year. No one knew where he was."

Bill's face tightened. "When he came back, did you ever feel like something bad had happened to him?"

Ron looked at him with wide eyes. "Yeah," he whispered. 

Bill put a hand on Ron's shoulder. "Trust yourself, Ron," he whispered back. "Write me if you need advice."

So right now, at this moment, writing to Bill seemed like the smartest thing to do.

Dear Bill,

I'm worried about Harry. He told us earlier in the year that he had a boyfriend. He's having sex with him. He said they didn't have sex last year but I don't believe him. I think the boyfriend's not a boy. I think it's a man. He told me some things tonight. He was upset. He told me not to tell Hermione. I don't know who to talk to. What should I do?

I hope it's not raining in Egypt and that it's warm.

Love from,  
Ron

Bill sent him back two questions: "Is there an adult around you can trust? Which part of what Harry told you worries you the most?"

Ron wrote him back, saying, "I trust Hagrid. But I don't want to talk to him about Harry's problems. I worry the most about how Harry said he's had sex with other blokes. Well he said he had sex with one other bloke. I think there's been more. He's young for that right?"

Bill wrote back, and thankfully answered the question that Ron didn't dare ask:

I can't say that he's so young for it, but I was a virgin until I was 18 and out of Hogwarts, so you shouldn't feel bad. As for Harry--it's hard, but you've got to know when it's time to stop watching and waiting, and when it's time to act. If I'm ever not sure, I usually ask myself, 'Should Mum know about this?' If the answer's no, I keep watching and waiting. If the answer is yes--well, I probably don't go tell Mum, but I know it's time to do something.

Ron knew exactly what Bill meant. Because it really seemed like Ron needed to do something to help Harry, but if he asked himself if Mum should know...well, watching and waiting seemed like a much better choice.

*

Friday arrived quickly, and Harry found himself alone in the nicest bedroom he had ever seen, disguised as an unremarkable Muggle man. Except he still had piercings. Lucius was right--they did hold through Polyjuice transformations--but it had felt like his nipples were being pierced all over again, which--he supposed--they probably were. 

Harry sat on the bed, naked, waiting for Draco Malfoy to come into the room and fuck him. Severus had already fucked him before they'd even left Hogwarts, and--as Harry had suspected would happen--Lucius had fucked him as soon as they arrived at the Manor, while Severus had watched with a sneer.

So now, Harry was physically ready to have sex with Draco Malfoy. All he lacked was Draco Malfoy. He didn't have to wait long before Draco nervously entered the room. He blinked at Harry's naked form, flushed pink, then put a flask of Polyjuice on the desk. He held out a second flask to Harry. "This is extremely odd, but I've been told you do this sort of thing. Do you do this sort of thing?" 

Harry reached for the potion. "You mean, like fucking?"

Draco turned even more pink, and nodded.

"Sure. It's just fucking." He'd been telling himself this all evening, every time he thought, _Draco Malfoy is about to fuck me._ He swallowed the potion and turned into a girl, except with pierced nipples-- _fuck_ , that hurt. It hurt worse as a girl, he was sure. He looked down and gasped when he saw _boobs_. -- _White_ boobs, with pink nipples--and the silver studs looked so different against the unusual colouring--and also he had _boobs with nipple rings_ , oh, god, he felt himself getting wet between his legs. He looked at Draco, somewhat desperately. Draco was staring back at him--at his body, really--well--at a white girl's body--with Harry's nipple piercings--shit--Feeling curious and daring, Harry stared at Draco as he cupped his own boob with one hand-- _fuck_ , it was tender--and reached down between his legs with the other. He spread his legs wide, giving Draco a good view. When Harry had been a girl for Lupin, Lupin had coached him through touching himself--or herself?--and really, it didn't take long to figure out exactly what to do. It was soft and warm and slick down there, and he rubbed against his hand.

"How--how do you want to do this?" Draco whispered, staring at Harry's hands.

Harry smiled, and made a show of slipping a finger inside of his slick hole. It felt _so different_ to what he was used to that he couldn't hold back his gasp. Draco gasped, too, and Harry pulled out his finger, but kept teasing himself around the spot that felt most like his cock. "Do you want to take off your clothes?" Harry suggested. "Try some kissing?"

"Er--" Draco loosened his tie and walked over to Harry. "Do--do you _want_ to kiss?"

Harry was not used to leading at all, but Draco seemed so unsure. The whole thing was so surreal-- _Draco Malfoy_ , acting uncertain around Harry--and just before they were supposed to have _sex_ \--and was Lucius secretly watching somewhere?--

Probably, yes.

Harry decided to stop thinking. He reached out and took Draco's hand. "Touch me here," he said, and pulled Draco's hand down to his cunt. _God_ , that was nice. " _There_ , yes, that's the spot--keep rubbing," he said, and his voice wobbled as he reached for Draco's belt. "Can I?" he asked.

Draco nodded, and Harry undid Draco's trousers and felt his erection through his pants. And then Draco slipped a finger easily--god, so easily--inside Harry's mysterious hole. Harry whined. "Take--take these off," he said, tugging at Draco's pants. Draco did as he was told, then crawled over Harry, pushing him back into the bed. Harry wrapped his legs around Draco, humping whatever part he could. "God, god, can you put it in?" he gasped. Draco closed his eyes and tried, but Harry was so slick that Draco's cock slid off target. Harry moaned, and Draco tried again, and failed again. The third time, Harry held Draco's cock in place and said, "Shove in."

Draco did, and even though Harry was slick and hot and wet, it still hurt in an odd way, and he gasped.

"Okay?" Draco panted, and opened his eyes. "You--okay?"

"Yeah--yeah--just not used to that--" he giggled. "This is only my second time ever as a girl."

Draco closed his eyes and thrust again, almost like he couldn't help it, and Harry wrapped his legs around Draco and felt his insides clenching. _God_ that made it-- _god_ \--

" _Merlin_ ," Draco said, his eyes squeezed shut as he pumped into Harry's cunt over and over. " _Merlin_ \--" and he came, well before Harry was anywhere near coming himself.

"Oh," Harry said, disappointed.

Draco laid his whole weight on Harry, and his cock slid out without ceremony. "Is that it, then?" Draco asked, a bit breathlessly. "Is that what it is to fuck a girl?"

Harry wasn't sure, really. "I came the other time I did it," he said, grunting a bit under Draco's dead weight.

Draco pushed himself up and looked at Harry. "It must be the body, then," Draco said. "I'm ready to try a boy." And he rolled off of Harry, went over to the desk, and grabbed the other dose of Polyjuice. 

Harry tried not to be disappointed. Draco hadn't even taken off his shirt. He hadn't touched Harry's boobs. Or his arse. Or kissed him. Any part of him. Still, Harry supposed it was better than Avery. He took the Polyjuice from Draco and drank it down.

He'd been prepared for his nipples to feel pierced all over again--but--instead it sort of felt like--like normal. Gasping, he looked down at his body. At a brown body--at _his_ body--he was almost sure of it. He looked up at Draco. "Draco..." he said, and that might have been his voice--it didn't sound really weird.

Draco smiled at him and undid the buttons on his shirt. He pulled it off efficiently and stalked over to Harry--who was still stunned and sitting on the bed--and leaned in and kissed him soundly on the mouth. Draco kissed Harry like he'd been wanting to do it for a while--he ran his hands in Harry's hair--that had to be _Harry's_ hair, it felt like it--and Draco licked and nipped at Harry's lips, then nibbled a trail down his neck. 

"Huh," Harry said, helplessly. And that time his voice sounded much higher than his own voice, but he didn't so much care about that right now. Draco pushed Harry back down on the bed, then slid down and licked a stripe up his cock. Harry tried to watch, but his head fell back. "You--you do this often?" he panted to the ceiling.

"Just think about it," Draco said. And then he put his mouth on Harry's cock, with entirely too much teeth. Harry squeaked, and Draco pulled back. "Is this okay?"

"No no--it's good--yeah--but--your teeth--mind your teeth."

Draco tried again, but Harry stopped him. "Let me show you," he said, and rolled them over and turned around--just in case Draco wanted to try again--and swallowed Draco's cock down his throat, just the way Severus always liked. Draco liked it, too, but didn't try to suck Harry's cock again. Instead he just came inside Harry's mouth with no warning. 

Harry wondered if that was going to be the end of Draco's first time fucking a boy, but instead of getting up, Draco pushed Harry down and started licking and biting his whole body. He spent quite a bit of time on Harry's nipples. "How long have you had these?" Draco said, and tugged on one of the studs. 

Harry groaned and shrugged. "Just got them re-done, not too long ago."

"I like them," Draco said. "I want to try anal."

That was sort of--sudden, Harry thought. "Me, or you?"

Draco laughed. "I want to fuck you, of course."

And Harry had the oddest time guiding Draco through the process of prepping his own arse for fucking, and teaching him the lubrication charm, and inadvertently showing him what happened if he hit Harry's prostate. But when Draco finally folded up Harry's legs and shoved inside, he knew what he was about. _Like father, like son_ , Harry thought, but Draco was somehow more... _tender_ than Lucius had ever been. Draco looked at Harry in wonder as he thrust in over and over, and smiled when he hit Harry's prostate. "You're beautiful," Draco whispered, and wrapped a slick hand around Harry's cock. Harry came for the first time since being with Draco. And then Draco came again with a shout, and once again collapsed on top of Harry. Then he kissed Harry's mouth and rolled off him. 

"You knew you were gay," Harry said.

"Of course I knew I was gay," Draco said. "But my father has these plans, and--it wasn't a terrible way to spend an evening. Even fucking a girl--better than gobstones, anyway." Then Draco rolled off the bed and started putting on his clothes. "I want to be gone before you transform back. I want to leave you like this--" and he leaned in and kissed Harry's mouth again. "Thank you. I'll never forget this," he whispered. And then he left.

Severus entered the room soon after. Harry asked him, "Did Draco Malfoy just use Polyjuice to turn me into me?" 

Severus gave a bored look and held out his hands. "The Malfoy scion has pedestrian tastes." Harry didn't know what any of those words meant. It didn't matter--Snape took him back to Hogwarts, fucked him one last time, and sent him back to Gryffindor. All in all, Harry thought, it was rather mundane to get fucked by someone new. Perhaps getting fucked by three different blokes in one night wasn't so odd, after all.


	9. The Triwizard Tournament and other failed plots

On the night that Harry's name came out of the Goblet of Fire, he went down to Severus's rooms very late. Harry felt wired and panicky, like he didn't have control of anything. He needed Snape to ground him.

But Snape was in a towering rage. He pulled Harry into his rooms, locked the door, and proceeded to hit Harry with anything he could reach. He got in a few hits with a book and an umbrella, and had just grabbed a bust from the mantelpiece when Harry scrambled away and pulled out his wand, shouting, " _Expelliarmus_! _Impedimentia_! _Incarcerous_! _Silencio_!" Then Harry stood, wand still pointed at Snape, and tried to pull himself together for a good minute, while Snape panted back at him with murderous eyes.

Finally, he said, "I've had a rather bad day, _Professor_. I didn't choose to be in this tournament, but it seems like I have to do it anyway. It feels a bit like force, but one time you told me that not all force was bad." Severus closed his eyes, then opened them again. _Point taken_ , Harry pretended he said. Harry felt wild and desperate. He whined and said, "I came down here so you could fuck me hard--god, I just need--but I didn't come here to be _beaten_ , Snape." Harry reached over and felt the front of Snape's trousers. He wasn't hard at all. "Fuck. None of this is--Jesus, Severus--can you just control your temper long enough for a fuck? _Finite Silencio._ "

Snape panted at him. "Vanish the bonds," he said coldly. His eyes were still wild, and it scared Harry.

Still, he obeyed. " _Finite Incarcerous._ "

Snape immediately turned around and pounded his fists into the wall. His rage was incredible, even under the Impediment Jinx. He finally stopped, and--still facing the wall, he said, "I've never enjoyed the things you have, Harry. Do not bind me again." He turned his head and glanced at Harry. "Please," he said, as if he used the word regularly.

"No, of--of course not, Professor," Harry said, falling back into his role, because he didn't know what else to do.

Snape turned back to the wall and panted again. He punched it one final time, then turned back to Harry. "Cancel the Impediment Jinx," Snape said in a dangerously calm voice, and Harry did. "Give me back my wand." Harry hesitated, but did. Snape's shoulders relaxed slightly as his hand closed over his wand, and he stumbled away from Harry and sat down very hard in a chair. "I'd--I'd like to try this again, Harry," he said, and used his wand to heal his bruised and bloody knuckles. Then he pointed his wand deliberately at Harry. " _Silencio_ ," he said easily, and Harry was braced for more, but that was all that came. He almost didn't mind it--he was sure that anything he said at this point would be the wrong thing, anyway.

"Come here, Harry," Snape said, and Harry walked over to where Snape sat, hesitated, then dropped down to kneel in front of Severus. "Look at me," Snape said, and Harry did. " _Legilimens_ ," he said--

\--and Harry didn't know that spell, but the effect of it seemed to be that everything he'd been kind of thinking about was suddenly all at the front of his mind, all of it, all at once--and there had been a lot on his mind since--since he could remember, honestly--and he was laughing with Ron on the Hogwarts Express for the first time, and thinking maybe he could fit in somewhere--and Uncle Vernon was knocking him down because he'd dropped the bacon that morning, but he hadn't meant to--and Hermione was reminding him that there were two goblin rebellions, one in 1187, but more recently in 1752, and Harry didn't know how she remembered all those numbers--and Lupin was a werewolf and fucking his arse and _don't panic, don't panic, take it, take it, don't panic_ \--and his name was coming out of the Goblet of Fire and he suddenly felt very, very alone--

And Snape must have finally ended the spell, because Harry gasped, and felt like his head was about to explode--but worse, he felt like he'd just been knocked down and raped by a werewolf. He clutched his hands to his head and screamed. "WHAT WAS THAT?" he demanded. His head was in Snape's lap--how had that happened--and Snape was petting his hair. "FUCK, SNAPE--WHAT--" And he pushed himself off Snape's lap and threw up on the floor. He rolled over sideways and lay there, panting. 

Lupin wasn't here--Lupin wasn't here and he wasn't a wolf because it wasn't the full moon because Harry kept careful track of the moon's phases ever since--ever since--but Lupin wasn't here and even if he was, that was fine because Harry had let Lupin fuck him after that--willingly--he'd wanted it, and it had been good, so it didn't matter--it didn't matter--"Fuck, fuck, Snape--fuck--just beat me next time, fuck--" And then he screwed up his eyes and started crying in earnest. 

Snape didn't say anything as Harry sobbed into the floor. Only when Harry's crying eased a bit did Snape say, "I had to know, Harry."

Harry didn't even want to know what it was that Snape wanted to know. So instead he said, "Thanks for cancelling the Silencing Charm, anyway."

Snape looked away--and there was something--there--

"You--you didn't cancel the Silencing Charm, did you Professor," Harry said flatly. Snape just raised an eyebrow. Harry buried his face. "Why am I so weird?" he groaned into the floor. "I just wanted a fuck--and--and--"

"I can still fuck you, if you wish," Snape said, and Harry understood it was a joke. Snape picked the oddest times to be funny, really.

"I seriously doubt you could fuck me right now, Professor," Harry said, with a glare at Snape's crotch.

Snape shrugged. "I have implements."

Harry stared at him for a beat, then started giggling. He tried to hold it back, but--it wasn't even that funny, really--but it had been a hard day--and that spell Snape had done was so awful--and the way Snape said _implements_ \-- Harry's stomach was soon hurting, and tears were running down his face, and he wasn't sure if he was laughing or crying for a few moments there--and then he realised that yes, he was crying. "Ron hates me," he whispered. "He thinks I put my name in without telling him." Then: "Remus raped me. I let him fuck me afterwards because I wanted to pretend it wasn't that bad." He had the fleeting thought that this was the basis of his relations with Snape, as well, but he buried the thought quickly. Instead, he said, "Is it normal to break through a Silencing Charm?" He looked at Severus.

Severus very carefully said, "It has been a long time since I expected normalcy from you, Potter."

"That's a no, then."

"That's a no," Severus agreed. "You've done things before--things I'm not sure you were even aware of--But I researched it, and some full-grown witches and wizards have managed similar--Potter, why couldn't you ever cast a Patronus?"

Harry rolled his head to look away from Snape. "I was rubbish at it," he said. Snape stayed quiet, like he expected Harry to say more. So Harry said, "Lupin--" but the name caught in his throat, and he had to swallow against it--"He only ever gave me the one lesson, really. For our second lesson, he tried to explain to me that sex and fucking were the same thing. That was the day I found out I wasn't a virgin anymore, actually--but for all that, he never gave me another Patronus lesson." Snape stayed quiet, and Harry stood up, still not looking at Snape. He was going to show Snape his pathetic, misty attempt at a Patronus. But first--a memory. As Snape had just shown him, he had _such a treasure_ of memories to choose from--but there was Ron, on the train, and Ron hated him now, but lately, Ron had been listening to Harry's problems without making Harry feel worse--and Ron had made jokes about Hermione researching gay sex in the library--and Ron was just--Ron was just the best friend anyone could have, really. He was fun and he made Harry feel normal, which was unique. Harry really felt like he could talk to him about anything-- _anything_ \--and maybe Harry didn't even deserve someone like that--and maybe he was losing Ron's friendship forever--but maybe not--maybe this was just temporary--

Harry closed his eyes, and thought about Ron, and said, " _Expecto Patronum._ " And he opened his eyes and gasped, because right in front of him, there was a huge--stag--silver--and it blinked at him and it was so--beautiful--Harry reached out and it nuzzled his hand. Harry felt something bubbling up in him--and it was--

Snape came up behind Harry, like he belonged there, because he did--he _did_ \--and wrapped his arms around Harry, and kissed his head, and said, "Harry, Harry,"--like Harry was--special--like he was--

And Harry turned around in Snape's arms and they hugged. They just hugged. Harry didn't know why it made him feel better than fucking.

Then Harry pushed Snape away. "You said I've done things in the past. What things?"

Snape worked his jaw, then said, "I am aware of two other occasions you have broken through magic. Once was your piercings--the first ones that I did. They were meant to be permanent. The other time was after the wolf had his way with you, and you broke through his sticking charms."

Harry's heart started pounding. "No I didn't," he said. "The sticking charms just wore off--I didn't--"

Snape blinked at him. "Sticking charms don't wear off, Potter. They _stick_."

"Shit," Harry said, and sat down. "Shit. Shit." If he hadn't been a freak, he would have been stuck to Lupin's floor till morning. Stuck with the wolf--the wolf in the room--if the wolf had woken up--and Harry--was--still--fuck--

"Breathe, Harry. Remember where you are." 

Harry blinked and tried to do what Snape said. "Why--why is it so much worse now?" he whispered. "I keep remembering it."

"Because surviving an experience is something that you do only once. Living with it, on the other hand--that's considerably more difficult."

"Where--where is Lupin, now?"

Snape shrugged. "I haven't been keeping track of him."

Harry shuddered and looked over his shoulder--even though it wasn't the full moon--that wasn't until the seventeenth of November--god--"Severus," he said. "Fuck me."

Severus blinked at him, and Harry crawled over to him, straddling his lap. "Fuck me," he said again, and frotted desperately on Severus's lap. "Use me--take what you want--I'm yours, I'm yours--please--please--"

Severus did, of course. He never said no when Harry got like this. He fucked Harry hard and fast, then fucked him with a butt plug, then fucked him slow when he was ready again. Harry gave himself to it--he took everything Severus gave him. By the end of it, he'd stopped looking over his shoulder, fearing the wolf. The wolf seemed far away when Severus's cock was inside of him. 

But for some reason, when Harry closed his eyes, he could see the electric blue eye of Mad-Eye Moody.

*

It didn't take long for Ron and Harry to mend their friendship. Two nights after his name came out of the Goblet, Harry had a nightmare about Lupin. Actually, it was Mad-Eye Moody--in his dream they were almost the same person. Lupin-Moody had a wooden leg--it was covered in blood and this frightened Harry--and he had a magical eye, and his face was Moody's, and his hair was Moody's, and his cock was Moody's--but Harry had no way of knowing that but in the dream he knew it--but Moody was a werewolf and he'd just raped Harry. Harry tried to get away, and he almost felt safe but then Moody pounced on him again--and Harry--he couldn't take it again--not again-- _please_ \--

\--And Ron was the one who woke him up. Harry scrambled away from Ron and curled himself into a tight ball and rocked back and forth, trying not to throw up. Ron didn't try to touch him. Harry tried to calm down, but he couldn't--he couldn't catch his breath--

"You okay over there?" Neville asked quietly.

"Yeah, we're fine," Ron replied easily. "You want to go down to the common room, Harry?"

Yes, yes, Harry wanted to get away from Neville and Seamus and Dean and don't let them find out about the wolf or the blood-covered stump--

Ron helped him down the stairs, only touching his elbow--and Harry sat down in the overstuffed sofa and finally, finally started to control his breathing.

"You want to talk about it, mate?" Ron asked.

 _Yes, yes, out, get it out. Don't leave this secret inside--get it out--_ "Ron--you know how Lupin was a werewolf?" He gasped at his own daring, but Ron just nodded blankly. Harry said, "He--he--once he transformed--it was a full moon--remember, he sent me that note?--You gave it to me--you saw it--He--he--wanted me in his rooms?"

Ron nodded, frowning. "You were gone that whole night..."

"Yeah--yeah, I was--Ron--Lupin trapped me in his rooms that night and he--he--" But Harry couldn't say it. 

Ron paled. "Harry," he whispered. "Are you a werewolf?"

Harry cried and shook his head. He was going to have to say it. "He...Ron, he didn't bite me--I trusted him!" Harry sobbed and covered his face. Ron didn't say anything, and still didn't touch Harry, which was nice, at least. But when he looked at Ron, Ron just looked confused. Because no one in their right mind would fill in the blank with _he turned into a werewolf and raped me._

Snape had guessed, of course. Snape had got it in one.

"He raped me. He turned into a wolf and raped me." There. He said it. He glanced at Ron, who looked--even more confused, really. "Ron?" he asked quietly.

"Lupin?" Ron said disbelievingly.

Oh shit, oh fuck, if Ron didn't believe him, then their friendship was well and truly over--"Yes, Lupin," Harry said, in a hard voice.

"A wolf can--can do that?" Ron asked, and he started to look--horrified--which was something, anyway.

Harry closed his eyes. "When I got to his rooms, he was still human--he locked me in--he told me to be calm and not run away--he said he could smell my fear, so that I mustn't panic--he said--he said he would make it good--but he--" Harry sobbed a bit--"he stuck me to the floor, told me that if I panicked, it would be harder for him, and then he changed into a werewolf--and--and I just had to take it and try not to panic."

Harry paused, and Ron was silent.

"And then he fell asleep!" Harry cried, and after all this time, that was still the worst detail. "He fucked me and left me bleeding and fell asleep, and I just--left. And--I should have been stuck there--I just found out--on Saturday--Sn--somebody told me that I broke through the sticking charms!"

"Shite," Ron said. "Lupin would have left you there all night?"

Harry nodded. "I mean--that's not what I--I thought the charm just wore off. But--it didn't."

Ron looked at him, then said in a low voice, "What about--what about Moody?"

Harry's stomach jolted. "What about him?"

"Just--when I woke you--that's what you were saying. 'Moody, not again.'"

Harry couldn't explain it, but it felt like his skin was crawling. He shuddered. "Does Moody sometimes give you the creeps?"

"I don't know--his face is all messed up, but you can't judge people based on their disabilities."

"But it's not his face--it's his--" It was his wooden leg. Harry swallowed hard.

"Harry, did you ever tell an adult what Lupin did?"

"No," Harry said, because he didn't think Snape counted in this situation. "I never told anybody."

"Has anything like that ever happened again?"

Harry shook his head.

Ron looked unhappy.

"Oh, would you rather I said 'yes'?" Harry sniped.

"No, of course not! It's just--I feel like the answer is 'yes', you just don't want to say it." Ron punched the cushions lightly. "If I'm wrong, you can tell me to shove off, but if I'm right, I wish you would tell me."

"Oh, because you've been such a good friend lately?"

"Guh," Ron said, and stood up and started to pace himself. "I'm still angry at you, but I'm worried about you, too."

"You're angry at me for something I didn't do, Ron!"

Ron groaned. "Who did it, then, Harry?"

"I don't--know!--Ron! You're worried about me being forced to do things I don't want to do--I'm telling you, I'm being forced to do this stupid Tournament. I don't want to. Could you worry about that, maybe?"

Ron deflated. "Harry..."

"What?"

"I'm sorry," Ron mumbled.

*

Ron didn't sleep at all that night. He knew--he _knew_ \--that it was time Mum should know. He didn't even have to ask himself about that. What he did ask himself, over and over, was this: what _part_ should Mum know about? Metaphorically speaking?

That Harry was having sex? Absolutely not. Mum should never find that out about anyone, ever. Literally or metaphorically.

That Lupin raped Harry last year? That--that seemed like Harry's business, and it was in the past, and what could anyone do about it, anyway--sack Lupin? Telling anyone about that--even Mum--seemed less like trying to help, and more like gossip.

No, what bothered Ron the most about everything Harry had said was--was actually Professor Moody. And since Harry didn't say anything, really, about Professor Moody, well--that made it difficult to tell Mum. Metaphorically.

Except that Ron had been noticing for weeks that Harry turned grey in Defence Against the Dark Arts. At the start of the year, Harry had been the only one of them to resist the Imperius Curse, but after that--Harry never even looked up in class anymore.

And when Harry had the nightmare, and muttered about Moody, things started to feel like they were clicking into place. So when Harry started telling a story about Lupin instead--at first Ron thought Harry was making things up, or trying to distract Ron from what was really bothering him--but then Harry had been so upset--and his story had been so awful--

But what was it about Moody, then? When Ron had tried to talk about Moody, Harry had been really confused--but...but really scared, too. Harry had been scared. 

And that's what Mum needed to know about.

But then--what was Ron to do about it? It was time to act--but what should he do? Challenge Moody to a duel? Slip him one of Fred and George's ton-tongue toffees? Try to get Moody sacked?

By the time dawn arrived, Ron realised that he was being far too metaphorical. _Mum needed to know._ That was pretty straightforward, really. --Not literally _Mum_ , of course. 

But Harry wasn't at lunch because he had some Triwizard Wand Ceremony or something, so he asked Hermione, "Have you noticed that Harry is pants at Defence these days?"

Hermione looked at Ron. "He's not _pants_ , Ron, but I admit that he's not doing as well as he usually does."

"Why do you think that is?" Ron asked.

Hermione put her fork down, cleared her throat, and looked at Ron. He felt suddenly terrified. Hermione did that to him, sometimes. "What do you know?" she asked.

"I honestly don't know anything. But I think something's off there, and I wanted to know what you thought about it."

Hermione sighed. "Harry doesn't like Professor Moody very much. I thought at first that it was because he demonstrated the Killing Curse, and the way he singled out Harry on the first day of class--but Harry doesn't usually--he doesn't usually hold a grudge for things like that."

Ron shrugged. "Harry had a nightmare last night. I know it was about Moody--well--I don't _know_ \--but I do. I do know it was about Moody. But Harry said that wasn't it, at all. And he--I don't think he was lying. But I...I don't think he was telling the truth, either."

Hermione scowled at him. "What are you saying, exactly?"

"I'm saying there's something about Moody that's...not right. I can't tell you what it is, but I decided I'm going to tell McGonagall about it. I was hoping that you might want to come with me." He really, really hoped that Hermione would say 'yes.' She was so much more comfortable talking to teachers, and she could save Ron from having to say that he didn't actually know anything, but it didn't matter because it was time to act.

"What are you going to tell Professor McGonagall? That you have a bad feeling about an ex-Auror who happens to be an old friend of Professor Dumbledore's?"

Ron felt himself flushing. It sounded sort of silly when it was said like that. "Sort of. I had really planned on saying that Harry had the bad feeling?"

Hermione huffed. "What good do you think it will do, Ron?"

"Well, it seems like a good first step. If McGonagall doesn't do anything and I keep having a bad feeling, I'll try something else. But Hermione--Harry's afraid of Moody."

Hermione was quiet for a while. She took another bite of her lunch, then said, "Is it okay if we do it tomorrow? Only, we have Defence tomorrow. I'll watch Harry and decide if I think you're right."

"Deal," Ron said quickly. 

In Defence the next day, Hermione watched Harry and Ron watched Hermione. Class wasn't even half over before Hermione looked at Ron and nodded. After class, she grabbed Ron's elbow and asked, " _What_ is wrong with Harry?"

"He's acting scared, right?"

"He is! And why didn't I notice before?"

Ron patted her shoulder. "You're usually too busy taking notes."

"Well, thank goodness you let your attention wander! We need to tell McGonagall as soon as possible!"

Ron and Hermione went to McGonagall's office that night. Unfortunately, when they told her that they were worried about Moody, McGonagall just said, "That one was always a bit odd, if you want to know the truth."

But then Hermione said, "But it's really Harry who is worried about Moody."

McGonagall replied, "That would mean a lot more coming from Potter himself." Ron and Hermione looked at each other unhappily, and McGonagall said, "Potter has more reason to worry about Defence professors than most, but they haven't all been bad. Professor Moody, for example, is a good friend of Professor Dumbledore's. And even though he was a werewolf, Professor Lupin was a decent sort."

This did very little to comfort Ron, but he didn't feel like he could share his thoughts on the matter.

That night, Ron lay awake thinking about how people could be very different from who you thought they were. McGonagall still thought Lupin was a good sort--and Hermione probably agreed with her--and Ron probably would have agreed last week, but now he knew otherwise. Lupin was a different person entirely.

Ron was nearly asleep when it came to him like a thunderbolt: he was being too metaphorical again. _It was possible that Moody was a different person entirely._

*

The youngest Mr Weasley and Miss Granger stayed back after class on Thursday. Harry very conspicuously did not stay with them. Severus sighed and asked them what they wanted.

"How can you tell if someone has taken Polyjuice, sir?" Granger asked.

"You wait, Miss Granger," Severus said, and turned his back to them.

"But what if they take another dose?"

"Then you wait longer," Severus gritted out.

"But surely there must be a detection charm, or a counter-potion, or--"

It was actually a very good question, because according to all of the literature, Polyjuice was absolutely undetectable and foolproof--but it was also understood that the Goblins at Gringotts could suss you out if you were to use Polyjuice in their establishment. Severus had once asked a Potions Master about this contradiction when he was younger, and the woman had waved him off with a sneer.

But Severus was in no mood to discuss such things with Granger. He turned on her with a glare. "Miss Granger--" he hissed, but Weasley interrupted him.

"We think Moody might be someone else taking Polyjuice," the boy blurted.

And Severus saw it--almost like it was happening right in front of him--Moody taking a swig from his hip-flask. He had done it while Harry stood naked in the corner of Severus's bedroom--and then again, after he'd finished abusing and debasing Harry in Severus's bed--almost precisely one hour later--

\--and boomslang skin had gone missing from his stores just a week ago--

\--and he'd caught Moody rummaging through his stores--and what had happened afterwards was so terrible that Severus hadn't thought much about how it started--but it had started when he _caught Moody rummaging through his stores_ \--

"A mark on his skin," Severus muttered, then cleared his throat. He didn't know why he said it--he was never inclined to be helpful to students--but it made sense when he realised that he really did just hate Moody that much--and if Moody was not Moody, it didn't matter. Severus still hated him, or her. He cleared his throat. "A mark, such as a cut, or burn, or bruise."

Miss Granger's eyes got huge, and Weasley frowned. The two children looked at each other. "Ron," Miss Granger said, "the next dose of Polyjuice would erase the mark!"

"But, what are you going to do?" the boy asked. "Punch him in the nose? Stab him with a fork over breakfast?"

Miss Granger's face fell.

"I'm sure you'll think of something," Severus said, and dismissed the pair from his classroom.

*

Several weeks ago, Harry would have predicted that Draco Malfoy would be horrible to him about the Triwizard Tournament. But after Draco fucked Harry using Polyjuice potion, Harry started to think that Draco might like him, a little. But now, Harry had to go back to his original opinion. Draco was _horrible_ to Harry. Harry knew it was possible to want to fuck someone you don't like all that much--but Draco seemed to really hate Harry.

It was disconcerting, in a way that he couldn't explain to Hermione, or even Ron.

On the day that Rita Skeeter's article came out (which made Harry into some sort of hero and only barely mentioned the other champions) Draco gave away badges that said "Potter Stinks," and it seemed like most of the school was happy to wear them. Harry went to lunch in the Great Hall with the intention of eating as fast as possible and getting back to the common room. The buttons enraged him. Everyone acted like Harry chose this, like he wanted to be a champion, when he didn't--he _didn't_ \--and to be praised in one corner--and made fun of in another--for something that wasn't his choice--it burned him up. But Ron and Hermione didn't notice Harry's distress--they had their attention glued to head table, and Harry could hear them talking about Fred and George. 

And then there was clattering at the head table, then silence all around the hall, and then students burst into uncomfortable giggles that soon turned into unrestrained laughter. Harry still didn't dare look up--but then the laughter suddenly stopped--and Harry finally looked up and saw everyone staring agape at the head table. He followed their gazes and he immediately saw the reason everyone had started laughing--all of the professors--Dumbledore included--were covered in bright purple and yellow pimples. All except for--Harry's heart leapt into his throat-- _Mad-Eye Moody_ \--except there were _two_ Mad-Eye Moodys--both unblemished, sitting next to each other and blinking. Then the Mad-Eye on the left rose from his seat and _scarpered_ \--or tried to, anyway--but Dumbledore caught him easily with a tripping jinx.

Harry learned later a bit of what had happened: Ron and Hermione (with the help of Fred and George) had managed to get the house elves to dose the entire head table with one of Fred and George's creations. And then Barty Crouch, Junior had taken another dose of Polyjuice, which effectively cleared up his spots, and made Professor McGonagall think that he had the antidote, so McGonagall had grabbed the flask from Crouch's hands and taken a dose before Crouch even realised what was happening. 

"All in all, it worked even better than we thought," Hermione summed up.

The whole affair should have made Harry's life easier, because Crouch was interrogated with Veritaserum, and he confessed that it was he who put Harry's name into the Goblet of Fire. But he also said that he did it on Lord Voldemort's orders, which worried Dumbledore but confused Harry. If Voldemort wanted Harry, what did the Triwizard Tournament have to do with it? Surely there were better ways to capture a person than to enter them into a world-famous tournament?

And then, of course, it didn't matter that everyone knew that Harry didn't put his name in the Goblet--he still had to compete in the tournament, anyway. _Binding magical contract_ , and all that. Harry thought that was a pretty rotten loophole, and said so. Dumbledore had looked troubled, but said he couldn't change the rules.

Harry spent the following weeks in a daze. He didn't understand it, but he felt that he should have known that Mad-Eye was a Death Eater in disguise. Meanwhile, Snape told him that the First Task was dragons, and even this--which should have terrified Harry--couldn't seem to get him out of his fog. He had nightmares almost every night about Moody's blood-covered stump. 

He was just glad that the real Mad-Eye Moody didn't want to teach classes after what he'd been through--Harry wasn't sure he'd like the real Mad-Eye any more than he'd liked the fake one. 

At least he had Ron by his side. Where Hermione tended to be judgmental if Harry didn't pay attention in classes, Ron just gave him a short summary of what they'd done as he nudged Harry out of the classroom door. Hermione would make up for it later, helping Harry to practice the spells he was supposed to have learned that day.

On the day of the First Task, Dumbledore told Harry that he and the other teachers had ensured that whatever happened, Harry couldn't be taken off the grounds, physically or magically, during the task. Harry almost asked how a dragon could be expected to take him off the grounds, but then he remembered that dragons could fly. And then he remembered that he wasn't supposed to know about the dragons. And it seemed like it was very soon after that that Harry came face-to-face with a Hungarian Horntail and thought, "I bet I could outfly it." And so he Summoned his Firebolt and that's what he did.

That night, he celebrated by getting fucked by Severus, then fucking Severus. By the next day, Harry felt better than he had in weeks.

And when Harry found out about the Yule Ball, he didn't hesitate to ask Cho Chang to go with him, and she agreed with a broad smile. 

Ron asked him later, "I thought you were bent?"

Harry shrugged. "I might not be," he said. 

But that very night, Severus prepped his arse with a plug, then took him to Malfoy Manor again, where Lucius and another one of his friends--Nott, this time--waited for Harry. Harry was a bit nervous about the extra person, but Lucius had a way of making everything sound like a good idea, and Severus--instead of acting angry--just smirked at Harry's embarrassment. So Harry did as Lucius suggested and stripped off his clothes slowly in front of the stranger. The man--Nott--gasped at the sight of his nipple rings, and positively groaned when Harry--at Lucius's suggestion--stroked his own cock to hardness.

"How old are you, boy?" Nott asked.

"Fourteen," Harry answered.

"Suck him off, Harry," Lucius said lazily, and Harry knelt down in front of Nott and did exactly what Lucius said. Soon, Lucius had rearranged Harry, and pulled out the plug--Harry groaned on Nott's cock, and Nott gripped Harry's hair tighter--and then Lucius pushed his cock into Harry's arse. Both men were still fully clothed--only their cocks were exposed, and their hands were on Harry's naked body, pushing and pulling and fucking him at both ends--and Harry only regretted that Severus hadn't joined in--but Nott came in his mouth and Harry swallowed it and sucked and licked, and Lucius hit him just right and Harry came so hard he saw stars--and Lucius was pulling him over and adjusting him and Harry wasn't sure what was happening until Snape pushed his cock into Harry's arse, too--and it had been a while since he'd done that, and Harry shouted, but not necessarily because he didn't like it. And both men held him down and drove into his arse, and Harry tried to reach behind him to pull Severus closer, but only got a handful of robes, because Severus was fully clothed too--but Severus kept pounding into Harry, and all Harry could do was pull at his own cock and kiss Lucius and laugh when the men came in his arse. And then Harry looked over and met Nott's eyes--Nott who was sitting on the floor, hard again and tugging frantically at his own cock. Harry disentangled himself from Lucius and Severus, who were both spent--and crawled slowly over to Nott. Nott watched him, paralysed. Harry pushed Nott down, flat on his back. Then Harry turned around, his backside to Nott--he gazed at Lucius and Severus, who both looked back at him hungrily--and then Harry straddled Nott and reached back, grabbing Nott's cock, and sat down slowly, guiding the cock carefully into his own arse. Then he wriggled and rocked and found his own prostate, leaning back wantonly and riding Nott's cock--and--it was Severus who broke, which made Harry very happy--Severus who crawled over to Harry, while Harry kept impaling himself, legs spread wide, his own cock rock-hard and leaking and _absolutely neglected_ \--Severus who put his hands on either side of Nott's knees and locked eyes with Harry, then suddenly lowered his head and swallowed Harry's cock down to the back of his throat without so much as a warning. Harry came hard, almost immediately, and Nott followed soon after. 

After Nott left, Harry lay splayed out on the floor, facing up, while Lucius contented himself by fucking Harry lazily with his fingers. 

"How much did he pay?" Severus asked Lucius.

Lucius smiled at Harry. "Five hundred," he said, without looking at Severus.

"I want four."

"Really, Severus, how could you explain such a windfall? I'll agree to two." He crooked his fingers and licked at the scars on Harry's hips. Harry squirmed.

"Three fifty."

Lucius looked at Severus, which annoyed Harry. "Two fifty is my final offer, Severus. You don't deserve more than half." Then Lucius turned back to Harry, leaned over, and bit down lightly on his nipple piercing. Then, the stud still held in Lucius's teeth, he pulled back slowly, causing Harry to cry out and roll to follow him. Then Lucius let go of the stud and withdrew his fingers from Harry's arse. Harry whimpered and fell back. Lucius turned his attention back to Severus. "There are others who have expressed an interest. Let us agree to fifty-fifty upfront."

Harry didn't know or care what they were talking about. He stroked his own cock and wished for more. "Can I fuck one of you?" he asked. 

Lucius burst out laughing, but obliged him. Severus took another turn at Harry's arse while Harry fucked Lucius--and Harry thought it was brilliant.

*

The Yule Ball was tolerable, and Cho Chang danced well enough that Harry just had to follow her lead. But Harry felt weird touching her--she was all soft curves and smooth skin. After the second dance, Cedric Diggory asked if he could cut in, and Harry felt a moment's rush--dancing with Cedric Diggory sounded brilliant--but then he realised that Cedric wanted to dance with _Cho_. And then Harry realised that no two boys danced together--even Draco Malfoy danced with Pansy Parkinson. Harry wondered briefly if he wore Pansy Parkinson's body the time when Draco fucked him as a girl. Then he wondered if he could dance with Draco if he was Polyjuiced into a girl, first. 

And then he realised that he was well and truly bent, just as Cho came back over and handed him a drink and kissed his cheek. Harry tried to smile--but then he saw Snape, standing on the other side of the room, looking back at Harry and smirking.

For the whole rest of the evening, whether he was sitting down, or dancing with some girl, or getting drinks, he kept seeing Snape--smirking. Snape--licking his lips. Snape--making some business with his cuffs. And always-- _always_ \--staring at Harry.

When the ball was over, and everyone in Gryffindor had finally gone to sleep, Harry put on his Invisibility Cloak and snuck down to Severus's rooms and rapped on the door quietly. Snape opened the door so quickly he must have been standing on the other side, waiting.

Harry threw himself at Severus, wanting to touch and taste every part of him--licking and biting and scratching as he tore at Severus's clothes--and Harry didn't even ask--he prepped Severus's arse with fingers and tongue, and sucked his cock and then fucked him until Severus came with Harry's cock still inside of him. 

On the whole, it was brilliant.

But then Severus started laughing, and said, "Did you not enjoy the attentions of the fairer sex tonight, Potter?"

"Shut it," Harry said, but he couldn't help laughing, too. "The moment you're ready, I want your cock up my arse."

But Severus seemed to know a spell for that, because he muttered something that Harry didn't recognise, and then he muttered the lubrication charm, and then he turned Harry over and tucked up his knees and thrust in with one smooth but forceful motion. 

Harry lost the plot a little bit--it was so unexpected and so, so, exactly what he needed--but he came hard soon after that.


	10. The return of Lord Voldemort

Three days later, Harry got a note from Severus, calling him down to his rooms just after lunch. It was odd, but it was the winter break, and Harry didn't mind spending extra time with Snape. So Harry told Ron he'd probably be away for the evening, and went off to Snape's rooms. When he arrived, Harry learned that Lucius had asked Severus to bring Harry to the Manor that afternoon, but Severus didn't seem happy about it.

"Lucius is up to something," Severus said. "I'm sure that his plans involve Draco, since Lucius collected him from the castle on Boxing Day and Draco hasn't returned since."

"Oh," Harry said. He'd rather it be Nott, or maybe someone new--but Draco was better than Avery, anyway. Harry shrugged and looked at Snape, who laughed at him.

"You're looking forward to this, aren't you? You don't care whose cock is up your arse--you could shag for England."

"You'd just watch and wank, you old pervert."

Severus wrapped his hands around Harry's throat, but didn't squeeze hard. "Do not call me old," he warned in a silky voice.

Harry licked his lips and reached down for Severus's crotch. Severus loosened his grip on Harry's throat and purred, "Do you want my cock up your arse now?"

Harry shrugged and tried not to grin. "As you've the closest cock, I'd settle for it."

And so, three hours later when Harry and Severus used the Floo to travel to Malfoy Manor, Harry was loose indeed. Severus insisted that he be completely naked under his robes--no socks, no butt plug--so that if anyone wished to fuck him immediately, Harry was more than ready for it. 

But as soon as they were through the Floo, Lucius greeted them with a string of spells. " _Expelliarmus! Impedimentia! Incarcerous! Silencio!_ "

Confused, Harry looked down at himself, then looked over at Snape, who was bound and silenced. Harry looked at Lucius, frowning. "Severus doesn't like that, you know," he said.

Lucius laughed, an odd laugh, and grabbed Harry by the arm. "I'll apologise to him later. Tonight is about you, Harry. I know Severus is terribly fond of you, but I am more fond of my son."

At that moment, Peter Pettigrew walked into the room, carrying a bundle of blankets, and Harry's scar exploded into pain. His knees buckled, but he felt himself being dragged forward. 

"There," Lucius was saying. "I've upheld my end--now tell me where Draco is."

"No," Peter rasped. "Not until it's done."

Harry wondered if Pettigrew was going to fuck him--he devoutly hoped not--but then his robes were stripped off and he was tied up, and he thought, _Well, maybe he'll be better than Avery_ , but then Pettigrew backed away and Harry saw a large cauldron. 

What happened next was horrible. Pettigrew made a potion using Harry's blood (Pettigrew cut a stripe on Harry's side--just above the burns made by Lucius that first time he'd fucked Harry), a bone that supposedly came from Voldemort's father, and _Pettigrew's own hand_. And then--Lord Voldemort himself rose from the cauldron, right there in Lucius Malfoy's formal sitting room. Harry whimpered as Voldemort looked at him and it felt like he was being stabbed in the forehead. 

"Harry Potter," Voldemort said. "I've learned so many interesting things about you from Lucius, here." And Voldemort stalked slowly over to Harry who couldn't shrink back--couldn't hide--couldn't fight--his hands were tied up over his head--tied to a sconce on the wall--god--where was that magic that Snape said he had?--He tugged at his hands and whimpered. Voldemort was just in front of him--raising his hand--and--caressing Harry's face? It was--it was all wrong, and it made things explode inside of Harry's scar--"Good," Voldemort said. "Good." And then Voldemort smirked and tweeked one of Harry's nipple rings. It hurt, but not as bad as his scar, and Harry tried not to flinch--but then Voldemort reached his other hand down and grabbed at Harry's arse, and he shoved his fingers inside of Harry--and _no no NO NO_ \--but Harry couldn't get away. 

Voldemort stepped back and laughed. "Lucius, my slippery friend. Invite the others."

Harry didn't know what that meant, but the pain spiked in his head again, and he might have blacked out, because it seemed like he blinked a few times and suddenly the room was full of masked men. Severus was still by the fireplace, bound and gagged. His expression was completely blank, which scared Harry more than anything else that had happened so far. 

And then Voldemort was making some speech to the Death Eaters. And Harry found that when Voldemort was concentrating on other things, his head hurt a little less. He pulled at his hands again--and he couldn't remember being more afraid or more desperate, so why could he not break free of the bonds? He pulled harder, not caring that the ropes binding him dug painfully into his wrists--god--god--he had no physical strength--he had no magical strength--it didn't matter--he had to _try_ \--he pulled and pulled and--there! Did the sconce bend a little bit?--He pulled again and--

" _Crucio_!" Voldemort screamed.

\--and Harry was consumed by pain. When Voldemort lifted the curse, Harry found himself hanging limply from his wrists, and when he was able to control his head enough to look up, he saw that the sconce either had never bent at all, or had been repaired. He groaned.

"Harry Potter!" Voldemort said gleefully. "A damaged boy, and some of my own faithful followers have damaged him more! For Severus has coached him into being a good little whore, and I know several of you have already enjoyed him. We shall all enjoy him tonight--and then he will fulfill his destiny and die by my hand."

Harry whimpered and tried to either pull the sconce down or pull himself up--he could work with either outcome--but he managed to do neither. And Voldemort had turned his full attention back to Harry, and Harry's scar was surely bleeding, or boiling, or growing inside of his brain somehow. 

Helpless. He was helpless. He dared to glance at Severus again, but Severus was looking at Voldemort, and Harry couldn't read his expression at all. Harry decided to not look at Snape again. 

And then, several hands seemed to be on Harry, and they roughly moved him over to a table, where he was bent over, face down, with his legs dangling uselessly off the edge--and then--Voldemort shoved his cock up Harry's arse.

It was horrible, because Harry couldn't see who was behind him, but it was Voldemort. There was a connection--almost a bond, as sickening as it was--and Harry could feel it. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore it--tried to just take it, the way he had done so many times before--it was just fucking, it wasn't so bad--what was one more man who came in his arse--it was nothing--it meant nothing--but Voldemort was having none of it. Voldemort adjusted himself and pushed in again, and hit Harry, just right--and Harry let out a guttural moan. Voldemort laughed and did it again and Harry--Harry felt all wrong, and yet--connected?--complete?--there was some part of Harry that was _singing_ \--even though he hated it with his whole soul--what was that part of him that-- _god_ \--Voldemort thrust in again, and Harry arched into it--and _god_ his cock was hard--but he could almost feel his own cock, thrusting into Harry Potter's arse beneath him, and Harry Potter writhing on his cock and moaning--and he was dominating--owning--marking-- _mine_ \--

\-- _And what the actual fuck was going on_ \--Christ--was he fucking himself or being fucked?--shit--shit--

He screamed when Voldemort came--but he came at the same time--god--fuck-- _what_ \-- 

And then he started sobbing almost immediately. He was sick--there was something wrong with him--what--what had just happened? All of the Death Eaters laughed at him--but it barely registered. 

And then Voldemort called Peter Pettigrew forward, gave him a new hand, and then gave him Harry's arse to fuck. Voldemort petted Harry's head the whole time. Harry tried to take it stoically, but he couldn't stop his tears. At least he didn't make any noise, and he didn't come as Wormtail pounded artlessly into his arse and came with a grunt. Then Pettigrew pulled out and spat on him.

And then it was Crabbe's turn. Crabbe spat on Harry before he fucked him, but then he pulled at Harry's hips and hit his prostate so relentlessly that Harry's couldn't help his moans. He couldn't stop, even when the other Death Eaters cheered--and then Voldemort carressed Harry's face and kissed his lips--like a lover--and Harry wanted to scream and yell and bite Voldemort's tongue off--but instead he screamed and came, and Voldemort smiled into Harry's mouth. Then Voldemort licked Harry's tears, and stood up and placed his hand in Harry's hair. "Avery," he said, petting Harry's head. "Your turn."

Harry choked back a sob and almost didn't even notice that he was being rolled over onto his back--not until someone pushed his legs up and out, and then Avery was shoving his cock in to Harry, just like so many had before--just like so many were yet to do. Harry didn't even try to fight it--he just tried to close his eyes and take it, but Voldemort wouldn't even let him have that. "Harry," Voldemort said, right in Harry's ear, making Harry's breath catch. "Open your eyes."

Harry didn't want to--but Voldemort reached down and twisted Harry's nipple ring painfully. "Open your eyes, Harry." He twisted the nipple even more cruelly, and Harry opened his eyes with a gasp. Voldemort was just in front of him, his face upside-down, his eyes intent on Harry. "Don't close your eyes, Harry," he whispered, and let go of Harry's nipple. Then Voldemort said calmly, "Avery, when you're ready, aim for his face." Avery grunted his acknowledgement, and Voldemort smiled and carressed Harry's face. "Keep looking at me, Harry." And then Avery pulled out suddenly and scrambled on top of Harry and came all over his mouth and chin and neck.

Harry was so stunned that he didn't even close his eyes. And Voldemort threw his head back and laughed.

Harry didn't know most of the other men, except for Goyle. And then Nott, of course. Harry wasn't even sure how many men there were, and maybe some of them took more than one turn--certainly, some fucked his arse and then fucked his mouth right afterwards--and Harry lost count of the number of times he came. It never got less humiliating--as if the men had better control over his own body than Harry himself did--and the worst was with Nott, who whispered something to Voldemort, and Voldemort laughed, and they positioned Harry between them and Voldemort fucked his mouth while Nott fucked his arse--and for the second time that night, Harry lost himself completely. He felt himself--filled at both ends, something he'd always enjoyed--coupled with the maddening sensation of his own cock, buried in the wet heat of Harry Potter's mouth, his cockhead bumping up against the back of Harry Potter's throat--He shuddered and came harder than he ever had in his life.

And through it all, Voldemort never stopped touching him.

And finally, when Harry had been fucked by everyone else in the room, Voldemort called both Lucius and Snape. And Harry thought that it couldn't get worse, but the jeering and the catcalls as both men drove their cocks inside of him--and Harry tried not to look at Snape, but he was _right there_ \--and Snape's eyes were hard--hard, nothing there--Snape didn't care about Harry at all--Snape was fucking Harry with Lucius Malfoy like they'd planned this--Harry only glanced at Snape, but it was too much--his eyes filled with tears again--and Snape came--Snape came in Harry's arse, already full of the other men's come--all the other Death Eaters who were now laughing--with Voldemort, still touching Harry's head like he was a faithful pet--and everything-- _everything_ Voldemort had done--what had Voldemort done that Snape hadn't already done to Harry?--The Cruciatus Curse? Raping him? Giving him to other men to be raped?--Snape had been the one to prep his arse for this, just a few hours earlier!

Harry felt the briefest flare of _rage_ , quickly smothered by shame. This is what he was here for--hadn't he come to Malfoy Manor to be fucked? He had participated--rather willingly--when Snape had prepped his arse-- _You could shag for England_ \--and he could, couldn't he? He'd come more than any of the men in the room tonight.

He hated himself. He tried to stop thinking altogether.

But Voldemort chuckled, and Harry felt it rumbling in his own chest. "The Saviour of the Wizarding World! But it seems that his proper position is on his hands and knees! Such a sweet boy--it's almost a shame that you have to die now." 

Harry felt the magic gathering--his scar pained him terribly--but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort screamed, and Harry closed his eyes and welcomed it.

*

The problem with being dead is that...he's not quite as dead as he'd like to be. At least his body doesn't physically hurt anymore, but he wishes that death were more like black and empty oblivion and less like remembering.

Because he can remember everything. He can remember things he'd rather forget--and things that other people made him forget.

At least he has clothes--a white tunic-type thing--and his nipple rings are gone. Both of those things are a relief, because his mum is there, and that is awful enough without him being naked with nipple rings.

"Mum," he whispers. "You didn't see, did you?" She tries to hug him but he pushes her away--he can't stand to be touched, not even dead like he is. "Tell me you didn't see," he begs.

"Harry, it's not your fault."

"Did _everyone_ see? Did _Dad_ see?" Harry wants to die. Again. But this time go somewhere where no one _knows_. If being dead is no escape, then...

"You're not precisely dead, Harry," his mum says. "You're a bit...in-between, really." And then his mother tells him a long story about prophesies and blood magic, and bits of Voldemort's soul--and--Harry doesn't know if it's the place or that it's his mother--but his recent experiences seem more distant somehow, and by the end of the story, Harry is transfixed. 

"Who all knows about all of this?" Harry asks.

"Voldemort was very secretive. It's doubtful he left enough clues that one person could put it all together."

"But--if someone is going to kill Voldemort, they have to destroy all of the Horcruxes first!"

His mother nods sadly.

Harry blinks at her. "I'm not dead, you said?"

"Well, you're not not-dead, either."

"I'm in-between? Can I go back?"

His mum looks away. "You could go back. But you would find yourself back in Malfoy Manor, surrounded by Death Eaters." 

The Death Eaters who raped him. Snape. And Lucius. And Voldemort. Harry's stomach does a sick roll. 

"But the prophecy?" he asks.

"The prophecy means only as much as you and Tom Riddle let it mean."

Harry thinks about it. "How much does Tom let it mean?"

"A great deal, sadly."

"He raped me," Harry says, surprised at how easy the words come. "They all raped me. That's been happening to me a lot." He looks at his mum, but her eyes are closed. "Were you really friends with Severus Snape?"

"I can't answer that."

"Why not?"

"You're in-between, Harry. If you cross over, we can talk about anything--you can observe things for yourself, even--but while you're still in-between, we can only talk about you."

"But you told me about Voldemort!"

"Voldemort bound his soul to yours thirteen years ago, and he bound your blood to his tonight. The magic of the in-between recognises the duality."

"But his soul isn't bound to me anymore, right? Even if I go back?"

His mum smiles. "The fragment of his soul is gone, Harry."

Harry thinks about it all. He thinks for minutes or days; time isn't here in the in-between. His life seems very close and very distant at the same time. This is helpful. He is detached, slightly. He finally says, "I--I did some pretty stupid things, I guess."

"Oh, Harry," his mum says. "You're doing the best you can, with very little to guide you."

"I--I keep thinking that Snape--that he likes me, that he loves me. But--he--" 

He rapes Harry. He does. He keeps doing it. And it's worse now, because Harry understands a little better--understands about being made a victim--understands the power imbalance--understands his own helplessness. 

And he also realises that Snape knew all of these things from the very start--from that very first time when he ordered Harry to strip off his clothes, and Harry didn't even know what was happening. 

"I hate him," Harry decides.

His mum sighs. "Hate is a very heavy burden, Harry. Try not to waste too much time with it."

"Oh, you want me to forgive him?"

"I want you to recognise the things that are causing you pain, and let them go."

"I let him rape me," Harry says. Again, it's a lot easier to say it out loud, here in the in-between. "I even liked it, most times." Somehow, though, distant things are close again, very close, and Harry feels something like shame. He closes his eyes and clenches his jaw.

"How can you say that, Harry? How can you say that you _let_ him rape you, when you still aren't even sure what rape is? And just so you know, your body's physical response has nothing to do with it--nothing at all."

That doesn't seem right. If Harry likes having a cock up his arse, well, that seems to matter _some_ , anyway. But all of that moves into the distance, and Harry remembers his physical response when Voldemort raped him, and his mum's words move closer.

"When Voldemort raped me," he starts, but even in the in-between, he doesn't know how to describe how he felt like he was raping Harry Potter--how much power he had over the boy--Harry Potter would just take it--he even liked it--and Harry shoved his cock into the willing arse or mouth of Harry Potter again--"I was Voldemort. I was raping Harry Potter." He takes a deep breath and looks at his mum. "Was that because of the Horcrux?"

His mum looks very sad. "Yes, Harry, I'm so sorry."

Harry shakes his head, and they fall silent again.

And is he really thinking about going back there? He can decide to die, after all, and Voldemort would be someone else's problem. He could be Ron and Hermione's problem. And they would know that Harry was raped by every last one of Voldemort's followers, then murdered by Voldemort without even a word of protest. Harry sighs.

"Mum," he says slowly. Everything is close again, but Harry pulls it all to himself, good and bad, because his mind is made up. "I'm going back there."

His mum nods sadly. "I know," she whispers.

"They'll try to kill me."

"They will."

"Will I get away?" he asks hopefully.

His mum shrugs. "There's really only one way to find out."

Harry sighs.

"Harry," his mum says, "before you go back, you need to know how much I love you and how proud I am of you."

Harry studies her. "Really?" he says.

"Of course. Your father, too. He wanted to come, too, but the in-between isn't big enough for three people."

"How--how can you be proud of me? After I--"

"I'm proud of you because after everything you've been through, you still tend toward kindness instead of cruelty. That makes you remarkable, and I am proud that you are my son."

*

Severus hadn't wanted to rape the boy. He just couldn't see a way out of it. What good would it have done if he refused? The Dark Lord would have killed him. So Severus had performed a tumescence spell on himself and did what needed to be done. 

When he shoved inside Harry, the boy looked at him with hurt betrayal. Severus ignored it. 

But when the Dark Lord cast the Killing Curse, Severus had never hated himself more. What good did his deception do if it still led to Harry's death? Harry, who was like no one Severus had ever met before? Harry might have come back to Severus after being raped by twenty grown men--but there was no way he was going to come back after the _Killing Curse_.

"No," Severus said, far too late to do any good. But all the other Death Eaters were also gasping and didn't hear--and Severus looked around and saw the Dark Lord lying on the floor. Pettigrew and a few others cautiously approached the Dark Lord's body, but Severus went over to Harry. 

Harry. He was naked and looked very small and very sad. 

And very dead. And for what? --So that Severus could still pretend to adhere to the teachings of a madman? What an absolute waste.

Anger twisted in Severus's gut. With all the focus of his rage, he Summoned his wand with a thought. It flew into his hand unnoticed by the others, and he gripped it tightly. He would kill them all, starting with Lucius--who tricked him here with Harry--and ending with the Dark Lord. And he wouldn't make it as quick as the Killing Curse, either--he would...

But then Harry moaned, and Severus startled back. Across the room, the other Death Eaters gasped, too, and Pettigrew said, "Get back! Give him some room!"

Harry blinked and looked at Severus. Severus's heart leapt into his throat, and he found himself revising his plans for petty revenge. _If Harry was alive, he needed to get out of here_. Severus stared at Harry, momentarily dumbfounded and frozen in place, until the boy quietly said, "Please." Severus silently held a finger to his lips, then reached out to grab the boy. 

"No!" Harry barked, and tried to scramble away. 

This got the attention of Macnair. "Potter is alive!" he shouted. 

"Fuck," Severus said, and lunged at the boy and Disapparated as soon as he had a firm grip.

"NO!" Harry screamed, even as they Apparated at the front gates of Hogwarts. "Let me go, stop, get OFF!"

"Stop it, Potter, we've got to get back on Hogwarts grounds--"

But Harry kept trying to twist away in a blind panic.

" _Stupefy_ ," Severus cast, and the boy went mercifully limp. Panting, Severus cast a Disillusionment Charm on the boy and hoisted him over his shoulders, and walked calmly back to his rooms. The walk was torture. The boy was filthy, and Severus couldn't let himself think about the stickiness on his own hands, or the wet patches spreading down his arm and back. He had to walk calmly--he had to get to the safety of his own rooms before he could let himself think of anything else. But the boy seemed to get heavier with every step, and Severus did not dare readjust his grip, just as he didn't think about the filth dripping off the boy onto Severus's robes--

And finally he arrived in his rooms and deposited the boy on his sofa, and cast multiple cleaning charms on himself, then cancelled the Disillusionment Charm and cast cleaning charms on the boy, and then was violently sick in his own sitting room. He cast more cleaning charms, and stared at Harry for a few moments before he gathered the courage to cast a simple diagnostic charm. The charm informed Severus that Harry was, in fact, alive.

Severus sat down rather abruptly on the floor and tried to control his breathing. He cast the charm again, just to be sure, and it still showed that Harry was alive. 

Severus closed his eyes. He had much to do, and none of it was pleasant. He opened his eyes, watched the boy breathe, and cast the charm a third time. 

It appeared that Harry Potter had, in fact, survived the Killing Curse. Of course, according to legend, Harry had done that before, but hearing about it and seeing it were two different things entirely. 

So. Severus cast a different diagnostic charm, which showed that the boy had only minor cuts and bruises, the worst of which were around his wrists. Severus healed them quickly, then put his head in his hands. 

Now came the hard part.

Stalling, Severus went to his private potions stores and fetched a potion that would prevent the onset of most sexually transmitted diseases, if administered soon enough after exposure. He took a dose for himself, and chased it with a measure of firewhiskey. Then he poured a dose for Harry, and the same measure of alcohol. He brought them out to the boy, still stupefied on his sofa.

" _Incarcerous. Silencio,_ " he cast. Now he just had to wake the boy. And deal with the boy, of course. This boy who had been raped and murdered tonight. Cursing, Severus cancelled the binding spell and the silencing charm. Instead, he locked his door and cast _Muffliato._ Severus took a deep breath, then cast, " _Renervate._ " 

Harry blinked at him, then squeezed his eyes shut. 

"Harry, can you hear me?"

Harry nodded.

"I have a potion you need to take."

Harry didn't react.

"Harry..." Severus started, but the boy interrupted.

"Can I have some clothes, Professor? Or did you want another go, first?"

Severus turned on his heel and marched into his bedroom. He collected the boy's pants, trousers, and shirt, all of which had been carelessly left on Severus's bedroom floor earlier in the evening, "to ease access," Severus had said. He marched back out to Harry and threw the clothes at the boy. "There," Severus sneered. "And you can drop the 'Professor' shit."

Harry snorted, but didn't move to put on the clothes.

"Are you going to dress yourself?" Severus growled. "Or did you want me to have another go, first?" 

Harry flinched badly, and tried to cover for it by pulling the clothes to him, but his hands were shaking. 

Severus needed to say something reassuring. "Potter..." The problem was, of course, there were no reassurances to be had. 

"Can you just turn around or something?" Potter asked in a small voice.

Severus did so, even though he didn't understand why the boy would make such an odd request, nor why he himself would comply so easily. He turned and saw Harry's wand on the mantle. 

Harry's wand on the mantle. Severus had always wanted Potter completely submissive in Lucius's presence, absolutely dependent on Severus for everything. What a fool he had been for trusting Lucius. He reached for Potter's wand, as he heard Potter moving very quickly to put on his clothes. And then he heard the boy shuffle over to the door and jiggle the handle. Severus turned around to see Harry, still yanking on the door, as if it just needed persistence. "You've forgotten something, Potter," Severus said, and held the wand out to Harry--

\--but Potter must have detected the motion out of the corner of his eye, and jumped out of the way and pressed himself back against the wall, empty hands held out in front of him. "Don't," he pleaded on a sob. "Don't."

The boy was broken, Severus realised. He recognised it from the night he had cast the Cruciatus Curse on the boy for the first time. He remembered that he hated the boy like this. He sighed and held out the wand. 

Potter took it but didn't thank him. He just stayed leaning against the wall and trembling. 

"You still need to take this potion, Potter." Severus levitated the vial over to Potter, who hesitated only slightly before drinking it down. 

"May I leave now, Professor?"

Severus sighed. "We have to go see the headmaster."

Harry looked up, startled. "Why?"

"He has to know what happened tonight."

"What? No!"

Severus turned away from Potter and sat down on the sofa. "He must know of the Dark Lord's return."

"You tell him. You're the Death Eater--you have a reason to be there--"

Severus looked at the boy; Potter quickly looked down. "He needs to know that you once again survived the Killing Curse."

"I didn't, though," Potter whined. Severus just stared at him. "I didn't!" Potter insisted. "I died. Er--at least, I wasn't not-dead."

"Potter, I know you've had a hard night. But death is rather more permanent than you seem to believe."

Potter laughed with an edge of hysteria, and hurriedly wiped his tears. Severus, feeling pity for the boy, offered him the glass of firewhiskey, which Potter drank without question. The boy made a face after he swallowed, though, and clutched his chest. "What was that?"

"Mm. Calming Draught."

Potter accepted this, and handed the glass back to Severus. "If we--if we go to Dumbledore--are you going to Obliviate me first, or make me promise I won't tell him certain things, or--"

Severus turned away and cleared his throat. 

"Professor?" Harry asked quietly.

"Stop calling me that," Severus snapped.

Harry groaned. "Fine. Fine. Do you want me to tell Dumbledore that we left Hogwarts so that I could be fucked by you and Lucius Malfoy--because that's just a thing that we all do together--our _hobby_ \--but that it went rather badly wrong this time?"

Severus didn't look at the boy. "My life is forfeit, Potter," he muttered.

"What?"

Severus deserved to be sacked. He'd been raping the Boy who Lived for over a year now, and whoring him out to other parties according to his own whims. Harry would expose Severus, then Dumbledore would banish Severus from the castle, and the Death Eaters would find him and deliver him to the Dark Lord. An unhappy fate--but hopefully a quick one. Still, he couldn't think of a better course of action than the one he took to get Potter out of Malfoy Manor. 

Severus looked at Potter. "Tell the headmaster what you must."

Harry went ashen at this. "I--can't--"

"I've raped you, Harry."

"I know that!" the boy exploded. "You think I don't know that?" Potter made an incoherent sound of rage. "I can't--just tell Dumbledore!"

Severus stood abruptly. It was best to get this over with sooner rather than later. He strode over to the Floo and tossed in a handful of powder. He called for the headmaster's office, and as soon as the connection was made, he said, "Headmaster, your presence is required in my quarters. Now, if you please."

Dumbledore came through very quickly, looking concerned. "Severus--and Harry, this is a surprise!"

Potter made a choked sound.

"But what's the matter?" Dumbledore asked, looking from Severus to Harry and back again.

Severus opened his mouth to speak, unsure where to begin, but Potter beat him to it. "Voldemort's back," Harry blurted. "Malfoy tricked me--Lucius Malfoy--tricked me into leaving the castle, and Wormtail made a potion and Voldemort got his body back, and then he summoned the Death Eaters and--they--th--they _hurt_ me--" Potter choked back a sob and continued, "And then Voldemort killed me--but instead it just killed the Horcrux--which my mum explained to me, but it sounded like something you said to me before--and she told me what the other Horcruxes are, but she's not sure _where_ they all are--and she told me about the prophecy--but both of you already know about the prophecy--and then I woke up at the Manor and Snape got me out of there."

Severus could only look at the boy, stunned. That had not been the story he'd expected. The headmaster seemed similarly affected, as he sat down heavily in an armchair. "Harry," he said weakly. 

"Did you know I was a Horcrux?" Harry asked, his voice high-pitched. "Did you know I'd have to die?"

"I'd hoped...I'd hoped I was wrong, Harry."

Severus sat down, but he missed the chair he was aiming for. He landed, undignified, on the floor.

_Harry had been used by them all_.

"I want to go back to Gryffindor now," Harry said, his voice flat.

"Harry, I need to know about the other Horcruxes," Dumbledore said.

"I don't want to talk about it right now!" Harry yelled. "Later! Tomorrow--I don't care--let me out of here!" And the boy rushed the door and kicked it and banged on it. 

"Harry," Dumbledore said, "it will not be easier tomorrow, or the next day. Tell me now."

"No--no--NO!" Harry screamed, and Severus recognised the panic--the confusion.

"Potter!" Severus barked. "You're at Hogwarts--you're not there." He Summoned a calming draught--a true calming draught this time--but wasn't sure how to get the boy to drink it. 

"Hogwarts," Harry wheezed. "And nothing bad ever happens here." The boy chuckled darkly. "Professor," he said slowly, as he turned around and leaned against the door, gazing at Severus, "did you know that when you die, you remember everything? Even if you've been Obliviated?" Harry chuckled again--an unnerving sound--as he slid down to the floor and sat hugging his knees.

"Christ," Severus muttered, understanding. He levitated the calming draught to the boy and told him to drink it. Potter did so, to Severus's relief.

"Harry," Dumbledore tried again. "What do you know about the Horcruxes?"

"Headmaster," Severus said. "Perhaps now is not the best time, with the boy this near to panic?"

"The calming draught should help," the headmaster said. "And I wouldn't press if this weren't important."

And Harry told them--about a locket, a ring, a diadem, a cup, and the snake. "The diary, too, but I destroyed that second year."

Gooseflesh broke out all over Severus's arms. He'd researched Horcruxes in his youth--when the allure of the dark and forbidden had been irresistible--but the process to make even one Horcrux was--evil. For the Dark Lord to have made six--seven, if you counted Harry Potter--

"Severus," the headmaster said, "I take it that you were seen leaving with Harry?"

Severus huffed a dry laugh. "Our exit was rather more public than I would have liked, yes."

"Perhaps that will simplify things. We must get the word out--Minister Fudge must be notified at once, and the _Daily Prophet_ \--"

"No!" Harry said. "No, don't tell--"

"Everyone must know about the return of Lord Voldemort, Harry. We will downplay your role in the night's events as much as possible."

"And I'm just supposed to take it?" Harry said, his voice going high again. "On my hands and knees I suppose--that's where I belong, after all!"

"Harry, what--"

But Potter had had enough. He turned to Severus with a look on his face that was horrible and heartbreaking. "Let me out," he said coldly, and Severus's mouth went dry. He couldn't quite be sure what the boy was talking about.

Silence rang for a few moments, but the headmaster broke it. "Dobby!" he called, and a house elf appeared.

"Yes, Mister Headmaster sir?"

"Please make sure that Harry Potter gets to Gryffindor tower safely, Dobby. And thank you."

The house elf took one look at Potter, and gave Severus and the headmaster reproachful looks. He then walked over to Potter and said, "If Mister Harry Potter sir is wishing to be leaving, take Dobby's hand. Dobby is wishing to be leaving, and Mister Harry Potter sir can be joining Dobby."

And Potter took the house-elf's hand and they both disappeared in a quiet "pop."

The headmaster turned to Severus. "Harry glossed over some points that I would like to have clarified, Severus."

"I participated in his torture, Headmaster. Would you like me to detail his screams?"

The headmaster closed his eyes. "I am sorry," he said. "For both of you."

The spectre of pity sparked Severus's anger. "If Potter wants you to know more about this evening, it's his story to tell. I have only one thing to add, Headmaster. When the Dark Lord turned his wand on your precious hero to unleash the Killing Curse, Harry Potter didn't even raise a hand in protest. He welcomed death. Let that be enough to fuel your nightmares." Severus knew it was more than enough to fuel his own. 


	11. Admissions

The next weeks were a blur for Harry. Cho came over to sit with him at breakfast a few times, but Harry told her that he didn't think it would work out. She frowned at him, but walked away without making too much of a fuss. Thankfully, classes started again and he was able to pretend to have his mind on his schoolwork. But he kept his mind as blank as he could. He took a lot of showers, and took out the piercings that first night. 

Weirdly, he didn't have as many nightmares about Mad-Eye Moody anymore--and when Moody did show up in Harry's dreams with his wooden leg covered in blood--well, Harry at least understood what it meant, and that somehow made it less terrifying.

In Potions class, Snape ignored Harry just as thoroughly as Harry ignored him. 

Dumbledore announced to the school that Voldemort was back, and Ron and Hermione gasped and looked at Harry. Harry kept his eyes down and pushed his peas around on his plate with his fork. 

"How long have you known?" Hermione hissed at him when they were alone.

Harry shrugged.

"You were there, weren't you," Ron said. "That's what's wrong, isn't it?"

Harry nodded. Hermione made a small squeaking sound and threw her arms around Harry. Harry was able to tolerate it for a few seconds before he shrugged away.

"Do you--do you want to talk about it?" Hermione asked in a small voice.

"No," Harry said. 

"It was bad, wasn't it?" Ron said.

Harry just shrugged, because--really?

Ron cringed. "Sorry, mate."

Hermione hovered awkwardly, and Harry could tell she had a lot more questions. But when she spoke, all she said was, "Have you worked out the clue for the Second Task?"

He hadn't, but he was glad of the topic change.

The _Daily Prophet_ was silent on the topic of Voldemort's return, but there was a short article by Rita Skeeter about the pressures of the Triwizard Tournament, and how it was difficult for young witches and wizards to successfully balance the tournament with their schoolwork. Skeeter concluded by saying that she could only imagine how difficult the tournament must be for an underage wizard. 

If she had asked Harry, Harry would have told her that he didn't care about the Triwizard Tournament. In fact, he didn't care about a lot of things: he didn't care about school, he didn't care about Snape, he didn't care about the Second Task, and he certainly didn't care if every wizard who ever followed Voldemort had fucked him. He didn't care that Vincent Crabbe moved just like his father--he didn't care that Gregory Goyle looked just like Avery--he didn't even care that Draco Malfoy didn't come back to Hogwarts at the new term.

Harry had been raped and murdered by Voldemort. Nothing else really mattered. 

None of it.

After a few weeks, McGonagall took him aside and asked him what was wrong and warned him that he could not afford to miss another essay in her class. And apparently Flitwick and Sinistra had also complained that Harry wasn't completing his work. Harry just shrugged and nodded through McGonagall's entire lecture, though she didn't seem too appeased by his reaction. 

"Potter," she said, just before dismissing him. "Professor Dumbledore hinted that you were involved in the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. If...if you ever need to talk to someone, my door is always open."

Harry just shrugged again. What would McGonagall know about it? He left her office and went to the Great Hall, where Ron and Hermione ate their lunch. He didn't sit down.

"Hermione," he said, startling himself a bit, "is there a place we can talk, maybe?"

"Of course, Harry," she said, with very wide eyes, and she gave a significant look to Ron, who returned the same sort of look, and then Hermione ushered Harry out into the entrance hall and shuffled them into a closet just to the side. "What's on your mind, Harry?"

Everything. Everything was on his mind. His own fault--his sickness--how he liked it when a man put his cock up his arse--how, on the night that Voldemort had returned, Harry had thought he was going to be fucked by three, maybe four men--and Harry had been excited by that--but what happened instead was that Harry was fucked by twenty men, and he couldn't really explain why that was worse, but it was--and how Harry had come with Voldemort's cock--

"Hermione," he said, "what's rape?"

Hermione flinched back, but said in a level voice, "Rape is the crime of forcing someone to submit to sexual intercourse."

Harry snorted. Of course she could quote the dictionary, word for word. That didn't help him. What the fuck was "force," anyway? "But--how is rape different from sex?"

Hermione looked sad. "It's all about consent--if both people consent, it's sex. If one person doesn't, it's rape."

"W--what's 'consent'?" He was almost afraid to ask. Severus and Lucius had used the word--Severus had consented for Harry--but...Was it another word for "coming"? If so, Harry consented with Voldemort. And a fair few of his Death Eaters.

Harry closed his eyes but listened as Hermione launched in. "You give your consent if you agree to do something--but only if you really know and understand what it is you're agreeing to. You can consent to one thing, but it could turn into something else and you can withdraw your consent."

Harry's knees buckled, and he sat down hard on the floor. Hermione squatted down next to him, but wisely didn't touch him. 

His mind was reeling. The second thing she said--that sounded like if he wanted to get fucked by Severus and Lucius and some other unknown man--but it turned out that he was fucked by Severus and Lucius and twenty other unknown men _and Voldemort_ \--then that was rape, no matter what Harry had wanted before it happened.

And also, it made it sound like--for example--if a man invited you down to his rooms, and you wanted to be fucked by him, but then he turned into a werewolf--and you definitely didn't want to get fucked by a werewolf--Hermione made that sound like rape. 

And finally, it was rape when the fake Moody had done all the things he had done, even though Harry had spent the hour before it happened, lying naked in Severus's sheets, lazily wanking and imagining all the things Snape would do to him. 

He wanted so badly for it to be true. When he wasn't busy hating himself, he'd told himself similar things, but he hardly dared to hope that it was true.

"Harry," Hermione said quietly. "When you had sex with that bloke--your boyfriend--the first time, did you understand what you were doing?"

Harry chuckled dryly and shook his head. 

"Did he know what he was doing?"

Harry nodded. 

"Then that was rape. Harry, you can't consent if you don't understand what you're doing," she said gently.

She made it sound so--so much like none of it was Harry's fault. "It sounds so simple," he rasped.

"Oh, Harry, I'm sure your feelings are quite complicated, but the facts _are_ simple."

Harry nodded. "By the way, he's not my boyfriend anymore," he said.

"Good," Hermione said firmly. "I always thought he was a wanker."

Harry giggled uncontrollably at her language.

*

The boy was showing an unacceptable amount of apathy. 

Severus had given up his standing as Dumbledore's spy in order to save the little ingrate's life, and Harry responded by--by becoming a shell of the spirited boy whom--whom Severus had raped and given to others to be raped--and how dare the boy suddenly start behaving like a victim, when he'd never done so before.

Severus wanted to hate the boy, or disregard the boy, or maybe just show a little bit of aptitude for ignoring the boy, but instead, he felt--something else entirely. 

He'd had the presence of mind, back before the New Year, to go to Dumbledore to request that he cast a Tongue-Tying Charm on on the returning students, so that they couldn't repeat what their fathers and uncles and brothers may have told them about what had happened over the holidays. Dumbledore had done so without question and without fanfare. Severus had seen the Charm work with his own eyes--when Dumbledore announced the return of the Dark Lord, an older Ravenclaw boy named Aaron Randall had called out loudly, "Hey Potter, can I borrow a quill?" Severus had been sure that wasn't what Randall had meant to say--his older brother had been one of the ones to rape Harry, after all. But Randall's fellow Ravenclaws looked at him like he'd gone mad, and the girl sitting across from him shoved a quill in his direction while the boy sitting next to him cuffed him on the head--and meanwhile, it didn't seem as if Harry had even heard the exchange. And then, during the first Potions lesson of the new term, Vincent Crabbe stalked up to Potter and said, "Your robes look nice today. Are they new?" Potter had blinked and looked down at his robes, confused. Crabbe, blushing to the roots of his hair, stalked back over to his seat and kept his mouth shut for the rest of class.

But Severus did nothing more than watch from afar as Potter did even less than that. The boy seemed to show up to his classes and meals, but he remained detached and disengaged. February was upon them, and with it the Second Task. Severus spent a sleepless night, worrying about the boy--which seemed to be habit by now. At dawn, an obvious plan occurred to him. "Dobby!" he called, and the house elf appeared. "Have you been watching Harry Potter?" Severus asked.

The elf twisted his ears. "Dobby is not meant to be spying, Professor Sir, only Dobby can't help looking and noticing."

Severus blinked. "I honestly don't care. I just wanted to know if Potter has worked out what to do for the Second Task."

It was the elf's turn to blink.

"Never mind, Dobby. I need you to take this gillyweed to Potter--tell him it will help him breathe under the lake--he needs to eat it just before he submerges himself--and this will help him rescue Weasley."

The elf took the gillyweed when Severus handed it over, but looked back up at Severus with his huge eyes.

Severus sighed. "Give that to Potter. Tell him to eat it just before--"

"Dobby is hearing the first time, sir. Professor Sir is helping Harry Potter?"

"Don't tell him it's from me!" Severus said quickly. 

"Professor Sir is secretly helping Harry Potter, and Dobby is not to tell?"

"Correct."

The elf looked at the gillyweed in his hands. Severus shifted uncomfortably and said, "I don't need anything else, you may--"

"Harry Potter is sad, sir. Harry Potter is a great wizard, a good wizard, and Professor Sir made him sad. Sir hurt him, and sir is apologising to Harry Potter by secretly helping him. Dobby will help Professor Sir, because sir is helping Harry Potter. But if sir makes Harry Potter sad again, Dobby will be doing things not proper for a house elf." Dobby leveled his unblinking gaze at Severus, then said, "Professor Sir will not be liking what Dobby will be doing."

Then the elf disappeared with a _pop!_ Severus supposed it was fitting that his conscience should take the form of such an odd little creature.

*

The Second Task went fine, thanks to Dobby, and that meant the Triwizard Tournament was almost over, and school would be out soon after that, and then Harry could get away from Hogwarts for a bit.

Away from Snape, who never even looked at Harry anymore. Harry tried not to look at Snape, either, but--he couldn't not.

He almost wanted Snape to give him a detention, like he used to, just so that Harry could skive off and show Snape that he couldn't boss Harry around anymore. But Snape apparently already accepted this new fact without proof. 

Only--Harry wanted to prove it to himself.

In March, Harry turned in the first essay he'd written all term for Potions, and it was supposed to be about the effects of nightshade and its uses in potion-making. Instead, Harry wrote this:

I will not write about nightshade, just because you want me to write about nightshade. You know how you hear a word, but you don't know what it means, really? Hermione told me what "consent" means. It cleared up a lot of things for me. You have done too much without my consent. You're done, now. We're done, now. 

I suppose that the whole time, you only ever called it what it was. But you never explained the words you used. You're a terrible teacher, Snape.

When Harry got the essay back, Snape had written a large "E" across the top. 

*

Near the end of term, the _Daily Prophet_ released an article written by Rita Skeeter which claimed that Snape was a known child molester. The article didn't have named sources, and no alleged victims had come forward, but it hinted strongly that Snape's typical victim was young, skinny, dark-haired, and male. It was enough for Dumbledore to announce over breakfast that if anyone had any bad experiences with any teacher, Dumbledore was willing to hear that person out in private--or students could always go to their own Head of House, or Madam Pomfrey, or any adult on staff...

Harry stopped listening long before the speech was over. He looked at Ron, who stared at Dumbledore with narrowed eyes. "Bit late for him to be worried about that," Ron muttered.

Harry's stomach dropped, and Hermione whispered, "What do you mean?"

Ron shot Harry a guilty look. "Nothing," Ron said, and looked away.

"What are you talking about, Ron?" Hermione persisted, and Harry wanted to be far, far away from this conversation. He felt a blooming panic-- _How did Ron know?_ Ron couldn't know-- _he couldn't_ \--he didn't. He didn't know. But what was he talking about then? --Lupin. Of course, Lupin. 

Ron shook his head, and looked at Harry again, his face on fire.

"What is it that you two aren't telling me?" Hermione demanded in a harsh whisper.

"Later, Hermione," Harry said in a hoarse voice.

He hoped to put the conversation off until much later--decades, if he could manage--but Hermione only lasted until the end of breakfast before she dragged Ron and Harry into a small room hidden behind a tapestry just outside the Charms classroom.

"Aren't you worried we'll be late to Charms?" Harry protested earnestly.

"No," Hermione said firmly. "It's Snape, isn't it."

Harry's ears started buzzing, so he almost missed it when Ron said, "What? No! That's _disgusting_ , Hermione!"

Harry sat down very hard on the floor. "Shit," he muttered. Hermione and Ron crouched down next to him, very close--too close, and Harry pushed himself back. He started to process Ron's words, and didn't know if he felt more relief or shame. Mostly, he just felt like they could never know.

Hermione scooted closer and touched Harry's face, his shoulder, and said "Are you okay, Harry?" and Harry shrank away again. 

"Stop," he said weakly.

"Hermione, back off," Ron said. "Give him space."

And Hermione did. Harry closed his eyes and tried to breathe. He heard Ron and Hermione's voices, but they seemed muffled. He heard Voldemort's voice clearly, but tried to ignore it: "The Saviour of the Wizarding World! His proper place is on his hands and knees!" He covered his face, covered his ears, tried to keep breathing--

"Harry?" Ron said, like he'd said it more than once. 

"What," Harry said, and breathed in and out again.

"I said, do you want me to tell her?"

Harry tried to shrug, but it was hard, curled up the way he was. He breathed in and out and lifted his head. He looked at Hermione. "Lupin raped me last year." He looked away quickly, and breathed in and out again, and stood up suddenly. He wanted to throw something, hit something, but the room was disappointingly empty. Without any other options, he went to the wall and kicked it and punched it as hard as he could. It felt better than trying to breathe, so he did it again, and again, and screamed, and did it again and again. Then his fists started to hurt, and his foot hurt, and he felt better overall, so he stopped and rested his head against the cool stone wall. 

"Harry..." Hermione said, in an uncertain, broken sort of voice.

"It happened, and I can't change it, and you can't change it, and I'd really rather not talk about it, thank you," Harry said to the wall.

He stayed where he was and panted for a few moments. His hands really did hurt, and also one of his wrists. He opened and closed his fists, and had a much harder time with the left one. He turned around. Ron and Hermione were still there, looking down at the floor.

"I think I should go to the hospital wing," Harry said.

There was a pause, and Ron said, "Yeah, okay. We'll see you in class?"

"Yeah, okay," Harry said. 

He limped to the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey and asked him gentle questions to determine that his opponent had not been sentient and would not need her assistance later. She was able to heal his injuries quickly, which didn't seem fair at all.

That evening, Harry sat with Ron and Hermione around the fire in the Gryffindor common room, and didn't talk about Lupin. It was nice, until Hermione said, "Still, I wonder why Skeeter wrote what she did."

Harry tried to deflect quickly, and spoke without thinking. "I think someone is after Snape and feeding stories to Skeeter," he said. Hermione frowned, and Harry clamped his mouth shut.

"Who do you think is after him, then?" she asked.

Harry looked to Ron, who only looked back thoughtfully. It was all too close--too close, and Harry needed distance. He had more distance yesterday, but that had disappeared this morning. Ron and Hermione were very close, themselves--close to the truth--and Harry couldn't let them know--

Harry forced himself to breathe slowly, hoping it would help this time. He couldn't let them see another break-down. He had to say something. Something true, but not The Truth.

"The night--that night, when Voldemort returned? The Death Eaters were all there." Harry breathed slowly again, and looked at Ron and Hermione, who had leaned in to listen. "Snape was a Death Eater, you know."

Hermione gasped and Ron looked gobsmacked. Well, maybe they didn't know. 

"Anyway," Harry finished lamely, "Snape got me out of there. That night."

Ron and Hermione were silent for a moment. "And the other Death Eaters--and You-Know-Who--they know that Snape helped you?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded.

"So...someone wants Snape to get sacked so that the other Death Eaters can capture him and kill him?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged.

"That's an odd way to try to get someone sacked, though," said Ron.

"Not really," argued Hermione. 

And the conversation moved away from The Truth, which was a relief. But from that moment on, Ron and Hermione both had improved opinions of Snape. When Harry thought about it, his story had made Snape sound rather--rather like a good sort of bloke. Instead of--instead of the story he didn't tell, which was quite a bit more complicated.

*

Severus only wanted the boy to survive the Third Task. He rather hoped Potter stepped inside of the maze and sat down and waited for someone else to win, but he didn't think Potter was the type. So Severus monitored the perimeter of the maze, just as Dumbledore asked, and waited for any of the Champions to send up red sparks. 

Potter also didn't seem the type to send up red sparks if he were in trouble.

But at some point, an enormous silver stag burst forth from the maze--noble, graceful, untouchable--and Severus's breath caught. _The boy was fine, better than fine._ No one who was broken could produce such a Patronus.

And then finally, forty-five minutes later, Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory both appeared in front of the maze, holding the Triwizard Cup. They both looked a little surprised to be there. 

"Two Triwizard Champions, ladies and gentlemen--why, I believe this is unprecedented!" Ludo Bagman announced. Harry looked sheepish but pleased. Severus couldn't take his eyes off the boy--and Harry glanced at him, and quickly looked away.

The boy was fine. The boy would be fine. That would have to be enough for Severus.


	12. New year, same old problems

# PART III: The Boy and his Friends

CHAPTER 12: New year, same old problems

The Dursleys had never before ignored Harry quite so thoroughly. Harry welcomed the treatment at first, but by the the third day of the summer holidays, he was sure it was the most diabolical thing they'd ever done.

On the fourth day, he greeted Dudley on the stairs, and Dudley blinked at him once, then walked around him. 

On the fifth day, Harry offered to do the washing up after breakfast, but Aunt Petunia just said, "Hm," took the plate out of his hand, and turned away from Harry and did the washing up herself.

On the sixth night, Harry dreamed that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were watching the telly, and Harry stood off to the side while Voldemort petted his head. He knew that Voldemort would go away if only he could get his family to look at him, and he yelled and screamed and cried, but Voldemort was the only one who even saw Harry. And Voldemort caressed Harry's face and laughed.

Harry woke up in a cold sweat and didn't sleep again that night.

His dreams the next night were far worse. On the eighth day, Harry didn't leave his room. That evening, someone pushed a plate of food through the cat flap on the door. Harry rolled over on his bed and ignored the food.

He indulged in a fantasy where Snape came to take him away from Privet Drive--took him back to Hogwarts and let him live there, and all Harry had to do was let Snape fuck his arse or his mouth whenever he wanted to. Harry would welcome it--he would consent to all of it. As long as Snape _looked_ at him. 

*

Severus was a prisoner in Hogwarts. This became very clear when the students left for the summer. Of course, being trapped at the school was certainly for his own good--as soon as he stepped away from the castle's protections, he was likely to be captured and killed by his former associates. As his choices were to be alive and caged or dead and free, he pragmatically reasoned that he had picked the superior path. But he longed for a third option, especially when Dumbledore--even Dumbledore!--left the castle for days at a time and didn't share his whereabouts with Severus. 

It wasn't as if Severus longed for adventure and danger--far from it. But he recognised that having too much time to himself was unhealthy. 

He started dreaming of Harry again. Harry, folded in half on Severus's bed, skinny ankles braced on Severus's shoulders as Severus pounded into the boy--Harry, eyes locked on Severus's, pupils dilated, mouth hanging open, panting, "Severus, Severus, love, fuck, Severus--" then the boy came, from Severus's cock in his arse, and Severus was so close, so close--so--and Severus turned his head and saw Lily standing in the corner and watching.

Severus woke in a tangle of sheets, fell off the bed, and vomited on the floor. He looked to see if Lily was still there.

She wasn't.

It wasn't that Severus believed in the afterlife--far from it. As Severus saw it, ghosts were people who couldn't accept the nothingness and permanence of Death. But Harry's story--the one he told on the night of the Dark Lord's return--forced him to reevaluate.

It was possible that Harry knew of the prophecy when he was a baby--his parents knew of it, after all, and probably discussed it in front of him--and the knowledge was stored in his subconscious, perhaps--and when the Dark Lord cast the killing curse at Harry, it somehow knocked that memory into Harry's conscious mind. Much like the memory of Mad-Eye Moody (Not Mad-Eye Moody). 

That Harry knew about Horcruxes was more difficult to explain. Perhaps, though--perhaps the bit of the Dark Lord's soul that had attached itself to Harry--perhaps that bit contained some of the Dark Lord's secrets and memories as well. And the trauma of the killing curse knocked all of those memories into Harry's mind.

Severus just wished that whatever mechanism had raised Harry's consciousness had not manifested itself as Lily Evans Potter.

Aside from the occasional nightmare, crushing boredom, and extreme isolation, Severus's first few weeks of summer hols were unremarkable.

During the third week of July, the Headmaster visited Severus and told him, "The headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix are located at Longbottom Heights."

Severus blinked. "Augusta Longbottom willingly cast the Fidelius Charm?"

"I think you'll find that Augusta does not think it a burden to be in the centre of things."

"No doubt. She made you Secret Keeper?" This shouldn't have surprised Severus--Dumbledore kept secrets like a niffler kept gold--but it did seem odd that Mrs Longbottom should give so much power over her own home to Dumbledore. 

"It was logical," Dumbledore said simply. "And it is logical that you know where it is before I leave again."

"Where are you going?"

"Oh, here and there, I suspect."

"Are you looking for the Horcruxes?"

Dumbledore smiled benignly. This did not improve Severus's mood.

"How many people have you told about what Harry learned that night?" Severus demanded.

"Oh, none, I assure you. I would have been tempted to wipe it from your memory, but I find the practice generally abhorrent and it may someday be useful that you know."

Severus snorted. "That's a great comfort, thank you."

"Severus, allow me to settle some things for myself before I tell you of them. All you need to know now is that I am leaving the castle, but I should be back within a fortnight. If you need to contact the Order for any reason, you may do so."

Severus nodded, though he could think of no reason why he might have to contact the Order.

*

During the early days of summer hols, Ron got a note from Harry that said, "The Muggles are acting like I'm not here. I tried to act like I wasn't here, too, but the problem is that every morning I wake up and here I am." Ron thought it was funny, and he sent a short letter in reply.

And then he didn't hear from Harry again. Ron reread Harry's letter, and it sounded a lot worse the more he read it. He sent two more letters with Errol, and then a birthday present of mince pie--and then Hedwig showed up empty-beaked and nibbled at Ron's fingers sadly. 

This convinced Ron that Harry was dead. He tried to explain this to his parents with no success--which was mad, because something similar had happened just a few summers ago, and Ron had rescued Harry, who was starving inside a gaol inside his own home, practically. And with You-Know-Who back, anything could have happened to Harry. Ron tried to argue this, as well, but his mum told him that Dumbledore was keeping tabs on Harry and there was no need to worry.

Ron threw a wobbly and stormed off to his room. He wrote a very quick note to Hermione, and used Hedwig to send it--and Hedwig returned by nightfall with a reply that basically said that Hermione agreed with Ron that something needed to be done, but what could they do?

 _Ron_ didn't know what to do--that's why he'd written Hermione. He crumpled her note in frustration, and Hedwig blinked at him contemptuously. "Should I write Bill?" Ron asked the owl.

Hedwig looked away.

"Argh," Ron said. "Dumbledore?"

Hedwig fluffed up her feathers and turned her back on Ron. Which wasn't very helpful, really.

He was fifteen years old, which was too old to steal his dad's car to kidnap his mate, and far to young to do anything else that might help, especially when You-Know-Who was who-knew-where, doing who knew what. What he needed was an adult. A helpful adult, someone who would believe him, someone who would...help...Harry...

"Hedwig," Ron whispered. "Would you be willing to find Snape?"

Hedwig looked around at Ron and blinked slowly.

Ron exhaled. "You'll have to wait a bit. Writing a letter to Snape is probably trickier than it sounds."

Ron tried several different notes, but finally decided on the simplest one of them all:

Dear Professor Snape,

Hermione (Granger) and I have not heard from Harry (Potter) since the start of the summer and now Hedwig (his owl) is coming around without letters from him. Can you check on him?

Thanks  
Ron Weasley

Hedwig was gone for a whole day, but when she returned, she brought no reply. 

The next day, his parents told him that they would all be leaving soon and they needed to pack for a long trip. They wouldn't say where they were going, only that they should pack everything they wanted, even for the school year. Ron and Ginny shared a look, and they both pretended that they weren't scared. Fred and George started complaining loudly, probably because they really weren't scared. 

That evening, Dumbledore showed up in their sitting room, and told the whole family in a grave voice that the headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix were located at Longbottom Heights. Then he nodded at Mum and Dad and left through the Floo. 

And then the Weasley family moved in with the Longbottoms, and Hermione joined them a few days later. Ron told her about his note to Snape, and she liked the idea but thought they should be more persistent. So she borrowed Mrs Longbottom's owl and sent another, lengthier note to Snape, hoping for better results.

*

The Gryffindors should be banished from Britain for their lack of subtlety and good sense. Severus felt this when he received the note from the youngest Mr Weasley, and felt it a thousand times more intensely when he got a similar (but wordier) note from Miss Granger.

 _They were worried about Harry._ And what in God's name was Severus to do about it? And why did the dunderheads feel that their wisest course of action was to contact Severus? Of course, Severus immediately tried to contact Dumbledore, but the headmaster clearly did not wish to be found. Even Potter's owl couldn't find the man. 

But when Severus got Miss Granger's note, he did the only thing he could think to do: he summoned Dobby.

"You called for Dobby, Professor Sir?"

"Yes, can you check on Harry Potter, Dobby?"

The elf hesitated. "D--D--Dobby is not under orders, sir, but Professor Dumbledore has asked in the nicest possible way if Dobby could be staying away from Muggles please, sir."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Can you check on Potter without showing yourself to the Muggles, then?"

Dobby straightened up, and his ears got all pointy. "Dobby can!" And the elf disappeared with a _pop!_ Severus thought Dobby would return quickly, so he didn't move, but one minute turned into another, and then another, and then Severus started to worry. 

After ten full minutes, Dobby reappeared--with _Potter_. Severus opened his mouth to protest, but Dobby cut him off. 

"Harry Potter is unwell, Professor Sir."

As if to illustrate this, Potter doubled over and heaved. He didn't produce anything other than retching noises. Severus wondered when he last ate or drank. The boy was far too skinny. And he _stank_.

Potter finished heaving, but stayed on all fours, panting. Severus didn't know how to react. Dobby patted Harry on the back and said encouraging things, which seemed to help, as Harry calmed and looked up at Severus. His eyes were haunted.

"Can I stay with you, Professor?" Harry asked in a thin voice. "I'll--I'll do anything." The boy's gaze didn't waver but his voice was ragged. 

Severus wanted--

\--Severus wanted to throttle the boy. The presumption! To ask to stay with Severus!

\--Severus wanted to take care of the boy--he needed several meals and several more baths.

\--And a part of Severus wanted to fuck the boy. To grab the boy by the hair and force his cock into the boy's mouth--gagging him and forcing him to take it--

Severus turned away, and Harry inexplicably sobbed--a tight, choked sound. "Dobby," Severus said, "take Harry to Longbottom Heights."

Dobby nodded and grabbed Potter's arm but didn't go anywhere. After a moment, the elf frowned and said, "Dobby is not being able to find Longbottom Heights."

Of course, the Fidelius. Severus tried to say _Take him to Dumbledore_ , but what came out of his mouth was, "That is unfortunate." He frowned. What was Dumbledore doing so secretively? And when had Dumbledore put a Tongue-Tying Curse on him? Without Dumbledore, Severus had no way of getting the boy to headquarters. Severus could contact Augusta or the Weasleys or anyone staying at headquarters, but they would be in the same position as Severus--unable to say anything that would help anyone find it.

Defeated, Severus said, "Take him to the kitchens for food, and then let him get cleaned up."

"Can I come back here after?" Harry croaked. "Please, Professor."

Severus snapped. "Call-me-by-my-NAME!" he roared, as he strode over to Harry and grabbed him by the shoulders. Dobby acted immediately, and threw Severus back from Harry. 

"Professor Sir is not to be touching Harry Potter in anger!" Dobby squeaked.

Potter tried to placate the elf. "It's okay, Dobby, it's okay, he didn't mean to hurt me--"

But Dobby would have none of it. "Harry Potter is to be eating and bathing and then staying tonight safe in Gryffindor Tower!" And the elf grabbed Harry and Disapparated.

House elf magic or no, Severus spent the afternoon brewing a potion that completely dampened the libido. The potion removed both the desire and the ability to have sex for approximately a day. It also cleared up all skin blemishes for the same amount of time, which was how the potion had been marketed a few decades before. Severus finished the potion and drank it without a second thought. 

Late that night, Severus woke up when someone knocked on his door. He'd fallen asleep on the sofa, expecting this. He opened the door, and let Harry in.

The boy still looked terrible. His skin was ashen and papery. He had dark circles under his eyes. But his voice was stronger when he said, "Fuck me, Snape."

Severus sighed. "Potter..."

"Severus," Harry said, and reached for Severus and kissed him. Severus didn't push the boy away, but did nothing to encourage him. Harry whined. "Severus, touch me, look at me, please, I'm yours, please--" He tried to kiss Severus again, but this time Severus took a step back. Harry dropped his hands and looked at Severus desperately. "Whatever--whatever you want, Snape, just please let me stay."

Severus sat down on the sofa. "I've taken a potion, Harry. Sex is not an option tonight."

Harry looked devastated. "But--what do you want? Can I suck you off? I'll do anything!"

Severus patted the cushion next to him. "Sit down."

Harry did, clearly confused.

"The potion I took prevents me from reaching an aroused state, Harry. I can give you a dose, if you'd like."

Harry shook his head dumbly.

"What's the matter with you, Potter? What happened at your relatives'?"

Harry shrugged. "They ignored me. Why did you take the potion?"

"I don't trust myself around you. Have they not been feeding you or letting you bathe?"

"Just didn't feel like it. What do you mean, you don't trust yourself around me?"

"We have a long history, Potter, based on me victimising you. It must stop."

"Maybe I want a future, based on us fucking."

"Christ," Severus muttered, and put his head in his hands. "Can you wait until you're an adult?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Severus looked at Harry incredulously. Was the boy really that stupid?

"Don't look at me like that," Harry said. "Besides, I probably won't live that long."

"What are you on about?"

"'Neither can live while the other survives,' Snape."

"What?"

"'Either must die at the hands of the other'?"

"Is that--is that the prophecy?"

"Yes--didn't you know? I'm marked." He pointed to his scar. "And I don't like my odds, really."

"He's used an unblockable, unbeatable death curse on you--twice--and it failed both times."

Harry stood up abruptly and walked across the room. He fiddled with something on the shelf then turned to look at Severus. "I know, Severus. I was there."

Severus didn't have anything to say to that.

Harry walked deliberately back to Severus and stood quietly in front of him, holding his gaze. Then, not looking away, he put one knee on one side of Severus, then the other knee on the other side, and settled his arse into Severus's lap. Then he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Severus's neck. 

Bemused, Severus said, "I'm incapable of arousal tonight, Potter."

Harry groaned. "Just put your arms around me, you pillock."

Severus did. And eventually, he relaxed.

Later, Severus got Harry to sleep on his bed, while Severus kept to the sofa.

He didn't sleep. Instead, he thought about Harry. Even in the midst of his body's cold indifference, he wanted the boy. With a clinical detachment, he could imagine sinking his cock into the boy's clenching hole and conclude that yes, that was a desirable thing.

The boy had been raped by others before, and Severus had fucked him afterwards as soon as possible. Sometimes just hours afterwards--sometimes minutes--just long enough for the healing charms to take effect. Of course, the last person who raped Harry was technically Severus himself--but that hadn't been the first time Severus raped the boy--and if Harry was ready to overlook it...Logically, there was no reason for Severus to end their association now--not if Harry wanted to continue it.

In his completely non-excited state, Severus still desperately wanted to fuck and be fucked by Harry Potter. Now he just had to decide if that meant that he should definitely brew more of the potion, or that he definitely shouldn't. 

Around dawn, he let himself into his bedroom, stripped off his clothes, and slipped into his bed next to Potter. And then Severus must have dozed off, because when he woke up, he was flat on his back, and Harry was wrapped around him, also naked, humping his hip and kissing his shoulder. "Snape," Harry moaned. "Snape." Then Harry bit Severus's shoulder, and Severus positively squirmed into it, embarrassingly, and then realised he was getting hard.

"Harry," Severus whispered.

"Snape," Harry said. "Fuck me like it's normal."

Without any hesitation, Severus rolled on top of Harry, then slid down his skinny body with the intention of prepping his arse slowly. But when he got one finger in, Harry shouted his encouragement, then dared Severus to go harder, faster, give him more. Severus skipped to three fingers, and Harry whined and said, "Do it, Snape, just do it--"

So Severus folded the boy's legs up and slid his cock in. Harry tensed up but kept his eyes open and breathed through the pain. Long before he unclenched, he said, "Do it, Snape--I'm yours--take me--I'm--"

Severus cut him off by kissing him, then started pumping his hips. Harry moaned into Severus's mouth as his arse unclenched, and Severus lost himself in the boy's welcoming body. 

They had sex two more times before hunger drove them out of bed.

As they ate, Severus noted Harry fidgeting. Harry finished eating first, and as Severus continued eating, the boy grew more and more agitated. Finally, as Severus put down his fork, Harry burst out, "You used to be rougher with me."

Severus blinked.

Harry pushed back from the table and said, "You used to tie me up, silence me--whip me, fuck me like you didn't care!"

Severus scowled and said flatly, "I used to cast the Cruciatus Curse on you."

"Yes, well, you know I don't like _that_."

Severus sighed. "Harry, now I..." What was he trying to say? _Now I love you?_ He started over. "It's difficult to..." _It's difficult to navigate your limits, now that you've been publicly raped and humiliated by myself and all of my former associates?_ \--definitely not.

Harry glared at Severus. "You won't break me."

Gryffindors told such pretty lies.

 _This morning was a mistake_ , Severus thought, but before he could say it, the Floo flared. No one came through, but Dumbledore's disembodied voice called, "Severus, I need your assistance." And then the Floo went dark. 

Panic spiked in Severus's gut--had that really been the headmaster? The voice had been tight, too high--Severus moved very slowly--when had he stood up?--and looked at Harry. "I must go," he said, and used the Floo to go to Dumbledore's office.

What awaited him was a nightmare. Dumbledore had found a Horcrux--the ring--and had destroyed the piece of the Dark Lord's soul, but not before the Horcrux dealt a fatal blow of its own. Severus was only able to temporarily contain the curse.

"It will only hold for a year, at best," Severus said.

Dumbledore breathed in and out, and then said--in a voice one would use if one was commenting on the weather, "This clarifies some things."

Severus stared at the headmaster.

"Severus," Dumbledore said carefully, "I am not likely to find all of the remaining Horcruxes in my allotted time. And Harry is the obvious choice to find the others."

Severus spluttered. "Bu--Ha--He's far to young for such a task, Headmaster."

"Oh, I agree. Therefore you must guide him."

Dumbledore loved to say outlandish things to try to get reactions from people, and Severus always tried to show as little reaction as possible, but the thought of Severus taking on such a ridiculous and impossible task (Guiding Harry Potter!--Destroying the Dark Lord's Horcruxes!--When Severus had literally whored the boy to Death Eaters!--When Severus himself had been balls-deep in Harry Potter's arse not even an hour before!)--well, it tested Severus's limits.

So Severus tried to shock Dumbledore back. "Potter is in my rooms now, Headmaster. Weasley and Miss Granger requested that I check on him, so I sent Dobby--but the elf brought the boy to me. As I am incapable of telling Dobby to take him to Headquarters, Potter spent the night in my rooms."

He almost hoped that the headmaster would react in horror-- _In your rooms, Severus, why, that is_ highly _inappropriate!_

But instead, the headmaster said, "It's good Harry trusts you again."

That was a baffling reaction. And wrong. Severus was dumbstruck.

"Severus. It was hardly a secret that you and Harry were close before the return of Lord Voldemort, any more than it was a secret that whatever happened that night nearly destroyed the trust Harry had placed in you."

"Headmaster..."

"Oh, I'm not suggesting anything untoward, Severus. I'm just happy that you were finally able to see past the fact that he is James's son and remember that he is also Lily's. I'm also happy that Harry has been able to forgive you for whatever transpired that night. He needs someone like you to guide him."

Severus felt increasingly uncomfortable the more the headmaster spoke.

"Understand that Harry will need to rely on you more than ever after I am gone. But for now, I will take Harry to headquarters myself."

"Good," Severus said, because it probably was. Even though Severus would have preferred more time alone with the boy. 

"And one more thing, Severus. Would you be so kind as to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts for the coming year?"

Severus tried not to gape. "Why?" Why him, why now?

"No one has applied for the position, and I need it filled."

"No one has applied for the position for the last two years running, Headmaster."

"True. I have resorted to asking people outright."

"Ah," Severus said. "And who would teach Potions, then?"

Dumbledore smiled. "I have some people I plan to ask."

*

Harry hated being left alone. When Snape left through the Floo, Harry managed to stay calm for twenty minutes. But then the fear started, weirdly, in the back of his throat. Then his neck got itchy. His legs started twitching. He clasped his hands together and told himself that Severus would be back--that he wouldn't abandon Harry--

\--but it was no use. Trying to get ahold of himself, Harry closed his eyes--

\--and felt Voldemort, petting his hair and laughing. "Such a sweet boy!"--

Harry opened his eyes and ran to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before he was sick.

He washed his face and panted at his reflection. _Snape's._ He was Snape's. Not Voldemort's. Snape had to keep him--had to keep him safe--he would--but Harry needed proof--he needed a sign--why had he got rid of his nipple rings--twice? Snape had marked him--had _marked_ him--and Harry had tossed that aside. If Harry still had his piercings, Severus couldn't just get rid of him--anyone could look at Harry and see that he was Snape's--

Harry feverishly started searching Snape's bathroom and bedroom for jewelry of any sort--anything he could use as nipple rings. He was starting to feel mild alarm that there was nothing to find when he heard Snape and Dumbledore in the front room. Harry hastily closed the drawer he'd been rifling through and ran out to them--

\--and immediately felt the awkwardness of it. Harry wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans and said, "Er--hello, Professor."

"Hello, Harry. How are you?"

Harry couldn't hold Dumbledore's gaze; he looked away. "Erm, fine, sir, how are you?"

"Oh, fine, I'm sure," he said airily as he waved his hand. The gesture caught Harry's attention--Dumbledore's hand was black and shriveled. Dumbledore smiled. "It's true that I've been better, but perhaps we'll save the story for another night. For now, Harry, while I'm sure you've enjoyed Professor Snape's hospitality--"

Harry darted a glance at Severus, who met his eyes briefly--then they both looked away--

"--I thought you might prefer to stay with the Weasleys. But first you need to know that the headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix are located at Longbottom Heights."

Dumbledore paused as if this meant anything to Harry, so he said, "Er, right, yeah."

Dumbledore smiled. "Do you need time to collect your things?"

"My things? Oh. Er. I just brought my wand. I--er--I left everything else at Privet Drive."

There was an awkward silence at this, and Harry hoped that Dumbledore wouldn't ask too many questions. He didn't want to admit that his aunt and uncle had locked up his trunk in the cupboard under the stairs, and Harry could of course pick the lock, but all that had seemed like too much effort at the time.

Dumbledore finally said, "Perhaps that could be a job for Dobby, then. Are you ready, Harry?"

Harry wasn't ready. He couldn't help it; he looked at Snape. Snape's gaze was resolutely fixed away from Harry. Harry cleared his throat uncertainly. "Erm, Snape?" he said quietly, unsure what he was asking for. Permission? Denial of permission?

But Dumbledore said, " _Professor_ Snape, Harry." And Harry noticed that Snape shuddered slightly, but turned to look at Harry.

"I can't imagine there's anything here you would need, Potter. Go with the headmaster." And Snape lifted his chin a little bit before looking away. 

So Harry said, "Yeah, okay. I'm ready."

*

But nothing could have prepared Harry for what happened next. He walked with Dumbledore to the main gates of Hogwarts, and then Dumbledore Apparated them to a small wizarding village in Wales, apologising because he needed to run an errand and he hoped that Harry wouldn't mind. 

"We've been short a teacher for two full terms, and I think I have a chance to rectify that," Dumbledore said, with a twinkle in his eye. "Although I'm sure that the students have not minded the gap in their schedules, the school governors are taking exception."

Harry nodded, and tried to not think about Professor Moody--who wasn't really Mad-Eye Moody. He tried not to think about Professor Moody tying him up on Severus's bed--tried not to think about how Severus had just walked away, knowing what would happen--

"Harry?"

Harry blinked. He must have stopped walking; Dumbledore was several paces in front of him. "Right, yeah," Harry said, and started moving again. 

Dumbledore would find someone better for the job; that was all there was to it. Harry wouldn't have to worry about it. He tried not to think about Lupin--

He stumbled a bit, and found himself blinking away tears. Why was he even going on this errand? To help Dumbledore screen for the DADA post? 

But then Dumbledore knocked on the door of a very nice house, and Harry met Horace Slughorn--and Harry had the very uncomfortable feeling that he was actually being used as bait. 

"I'd heard a rumour that you were thinking about going into hiding, Horace," Dumbledore said.

"You can't believe everything you hear, of course," Slughorn said, as he eyed Harry appraisingly. "But we do live in dangerous times."

"Hogwarts is very safe, you know."

Harry snorted. The adults ignored it and continued talking. The whole time, Slughorn kept looking at Harry hungrily. Harry didn't like it; he tried to not hear Moody saying, "I'd like a turn"--but he failed.

"See something you like?" Harry snapped.

Slughorn smiled and said, "I'm trying to decide that, my boy."

"Well, let me know," Harry said, and turned on his heel and walked out of the house. He marched down the street and realised that he didn't really have anywhere to go, so he sat down on a brick retaining wall and fumed. 

How did Slughorn know? Did Harry have a sign--a magical imprint--that let men know that his arse was open for use? Did he just look like he would bend over for anyone? And--did Dumbledore know? Was Dumbledore trading on that? _Come teach at Hogwarts, and you can shag the boy who lived!_

This last thought made Harry physically ill. He had nothing left in his stomach, so when he sicked up, he produced nothing but acid. Unfortunately for him, that was how Dumbledore found him, with his eyes watering from unpleasantness and his gut churning with betrayal and his heart beating against the sheer injustice. 

"Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "What's wrong?"

Harry glared at him. "Don't--don't dangle me as bait, just because you can't find a new _professor_ ," he hissed.

Not breaking eye contact, Dumbledore took a step back. "Harry," he whispered.

"Wasn't that why you brought me?" 

"Not like that, Harry--not like that!"

Harry scoffed. "Slughorn back there sure seemed to think it was _like that._ "

"Harry--I'm sorry--I didn't know--"

Suddenly, Harry's fear and anger and righteousness couldn't hold up to the wave of pure shame that overcame him. Dumbledore didn't think of Harry like that--stuck to the floor--tied to a bed--being petted by _Lord Voldemort_ \--that was just who Harry was. He looked away. "Never mind," he mumbled, and stood up and started to walk away. Dumbledore followed a few steps behind. "Can you take me to the Weasleys now, please?" he said, in a voice that he hoped a normal person might use. 

"Harry...if you ever have problems with a teacher, you can always talk to me about it."

Harry actually laughed. "Slughorn seems like a creep," he said, still not looking at Dumbledore.

"Have you ever had problems with teachers in the past?"

 _You mustn't panic,_ Lupin said in his head, and Harry closed his eyes and tried to breathe. He was outside, the breeze on his face--not stuck to a floor in Lupin's rooms with a werewolf--He opened his eyes, and was somewhat startled to see he was right. _I can make it good,_ Lupin said, and Harry whimpered. He tried to focus on the tree in front of him, the breeze on his face, the sidewalk under his feet, and he took another breath. 

"Harry?"

"Can you take me to the Weasleys, please?" he said again, and it sounded higher and more desperate than he meant it, but he couldn't take it back now. 

Dumbledore was silent, and Harry clenched his fists and breathed. 

Then Dumbledore said, "Take my arm, Harry." And Harry did.


	13. Information is exchanged

When Harry arrived at headquarters, he was careful with Ron and Hermione, and they were careful with him. He didn't want to talk about Lupin or Moody or Slughorn, not about his summer or how he was doing or anything that had happened to him in the last fourteen years, really. 

But Hermione had other plans. By the second evening, when she was still visiting the room that Harry shared with Ron, she said, "Harry, will you tell us what happened when You-Know-Who returned?"

Something flared in Harry's chest, but he tried to seem calm. It was ridiculous, anyway-- _You-Know-Who_ \--what a joke--He looked at Ron, who looked back with a careful expression.

"He and all his followers did You-Know-What," he said, and it occurred to him that it might have been rage that flared in his chest. His heart was pounding. He turned away from them.

To his surprise, it was Ron who spoke. "Harry...you've been different since then. And it seems like it's getting worse, not better. And Bill says that secrets can fester, so whatever happened...I think you should just put it out there."

It _sounded_ so reasonable, so easy. But so clearly impossible. Harry's throat closed up, even as he noted that Ron and Hermione were between him and the door. There was a window, but it was charmed to only open a few inches--maybe he could break the glass and jump down to the ground--they were only on the first floor--he could _probably_ jump that far without hurting himself--

"Harry?" Hermione said. "If we could guess, would you tell us if we were right?"

It was harder than it should have been to move his legs, but Harry went to the window. He leaned on the sill and looked out. They may have been on the first floor, but Longbottom Heights was on a hill, and on this side of the house, the hill sloped down quite alarmingly. He couldn't jump to safety. 

"Did he hurt you?" Hermione's voice was matter-of-fact. It helped, a bit. Harry nodded.

"Did the Death Eaters hurt you?"

Harry nodded and shrugged, then turned around and said to her, "They only did what Voldemort told them to do."

Ron flinched, but Hermione said, "Did they rape you?"

"I hate that word," Harry decided fiercely. "Don't ever say it again."

Hermione's nostrils flared, but she said, "Did they touch you sexually?"

_Touch him sexually._ That sounded worse than _rape_ \--it made everything seem so...sanitised. He suddenly wanted to shock Hermione out of her stupid clinical words that had nothing to do with his life. "Touch me sexually?" he said venomously. "Oh, like hold me down and shove their cocks in my arse until they came? Starting with Voldemort himself--which was quite an experience if I may say."

Hermione and Ron looked horrified--which gratified Harry, and for a moment he thought he would tell them how he'd reacted--how he'd _liked_ it--how he'd come, over and over--but he shied away from it. But still, they'd asked for the story, so Harry didn't stop. "And then--remember Wormtail? Remember how grotty he was? Did you ever think, 'Oh, hey, I would like for that man's cock to be up my arse someday'? Because he was next, and it was everything you could imagine. And then Crabbe's dad fucked me--have you ever met Crabbe's dad?--I hadn't--I still haven't, really, but I have been fucked by him. And Goyle's dad was there, too--he took a turn, of course. There were lots of others--but I don't think you'd know them--I didn't--except Macnair--remember him? That bloke who executed Buckbeak? Yeah--he fucked me, too. Oh--Malfoy's dad, of course--can't believe I almost forgot him--yes of course he was there--it all happened at his home, so of course he fucked me--they all fucked me. And the best part, really, was how _entertaining_ it all was for everyone to watch."

Ron and Hermione had looked away long before, but Harry wasn't done. Everything was unspooling inside of him, and he couldn't stop now if his life depended on it. 

"And then! As a grand finale, Voldemort killed me. The Killing Curse, right between the eyes." Harry touched his scar. "And then the night got really weird, because that's when I died, and my mum was there, and she told me all about how I wasn't quite dead, but I could choose to die if I wanted, or I could go back--and she told me about how there's a prophecy about me being the one with the power to destroy Voldemort, and that's why Voldemort tried to kill me when I was a baby--that's why he's going to be obsessed with me until one of us ends it--only Voldemort made all of these Horcruxes--including me--that would make him immortal as long as they continue to exist--but Voldemort had just killed the Horcrux in me, and that was the loophole that meant that I might survive the Killing Curse, if I wanted to. So I decided to go back, and Snape grabbed me and dragged me back to Hogwarts, and made me tell Dumbledore what happened--and I'm sorry if I've been acting differently since then. Honestly, what happened isn't even real to me--I don't even care--I've been more worried lately about what Lupin and Moody did--that seemed more personal--I don't know. I don't know."

He was panting. His hands were clenched together. He was sitting on the floor. He looked up, and Ron and Hermione looked as lost as he felt. "Is that what you wanted to hear?" he asked bluntly.

"I, erm," Ron said.

"It's awful," Hermione agreed. "But now we know."

Harry blinked. "Now you know." He unclenched his hands.

There was a long uncomfortable silence. 

Hermione finally broke it. "Harry, have you been talking to that bloke again?"

"What bloke?" Harry asked, even though he knew that Hermione knew.

"You have," she said. "Don't deny it. Are you seeing him again?"

Harry looked at Ron in desperation, but Ron just said, "Are you?"

"I'm not 'seeing' anyone who's not at headquarters, currently."

"But you did see him, over the summer," Ron guessed.

"That's not--that's not--"

"Did you have sex with him again?" Hermione asked.

Harry spluttered. "Wh--n--th--that's neither here nor there!"

"Harry, he's not good for you."

Harry exploded. "You don't know anything about him--NOTHING! And you don't know anything about me, either! So just drop it!"

Hermione and Ron shared a look, which only enraged Harry further. Why were Ron and Hermione so focused on Snape, even after everything he'd just told them? "Don't you get it? Sometimes, people fuck you, and you don't have a choice in the matter. Sometimes, you choose to fuck someone--and when I do, I don't want my _friends_ to tell me I'm making a mistake! Don't you see? I chose him! When I'm with him, I feel normal! When I'm at Hogwarts, I'm a freak because I'm famous, and everyone expects me to be amazing, the Boy Who Lived! Triwizard Champion! And somehow I'm supposed to save everyone from Voldemort! And when I'm with the Muggles, I'm a freak because I'm nobody and I don't fit in, so they just pretend I'm not there--and it gets really bloody old and I can't take it! I can't take it! I just want to be normal--I just want someone who treats me like I'm normal!" 

He'd had enough. He pushed past them and stormed out of the room before they could notice his tears. 

As the days wore on, Harry didn't avoid Ron and Hermione--but he didn't go looking for them, either. He started to work on the grounds with Neville. It was better than Privet Drive--the plants were more interesting, for one, and also he and Neville stuck to the shade. He talked with Neville about plants and other things that didn't really matter and it was perfect. 

Harry had had moments, during the last several months, when he envied Neville, and hated him, because the prophecy could have been about him--Harry's mum had told him so--Harry could have been normal, with parents--and he wasn't sure how much about him would be different, but he was sure it would all be better.

But, talking to Neville, Harry realised that _Neville lived with his grandmother_ , kind of the same way that Harry lived with his aunt and uncle. And Neville liked to go outside and work on the grounds, partly to get away from his grandmother's constant criticism.

So, towards the end of hols, Harry asked Neville in a quiet voice, "What happened to your parents?"

Neville shrugged and continued to pull out weeds for several moments before answering. "They were tortured."

Harry didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. Eventually, Neville continued. "They didn't die, but they weren't the same afterwards. They're in St. Mungo's now. They're awake, but they're not--they're not...they're not right."

This sounded terrible to Harry. He stopped envying Neville, but somehow it made him feel worse. Why had Harry been pitying himself? Because grown men had had sex with him, and sometimes he liked it?

"I'm sorry, Neville," Harry whispered, and continued picking the dead blooms off the flowers.

*

Late on the night of the Welcoming Feast, Narcissa Malfoy barged into Severus's rooms unannounced. Severus was quite occupied in his bedroom at the time--Harry had knocked on his door earlier in the evening, and Severus decided that there was no harm in taking what the boy offered. ( _The boy_ who was becoming less so--Severus tried not to dwell.)

So Severus had been busy licking and kissing every inch of Harry when he heard his Floo flare in the other room, and Narcissa's voice calling, "Severus! Are you there?"

Harry stiffened beneath him and sucked in a breath. Severus scrambled off the boy and hastily put on a dressing gown. "Just a moment!" he called. He walked back to the bed, where Harry looked at him with wide eyes. Severus grabbed a blanket and threw it over Harry--which was ridiculous. What was he, four? He cursed under his breath and pulled his wand and cast a Disillusionment Charm on the boy. "Stay here," he whispered. He stepped out into his sitting room, and pulled the bedroom door closed behind him.

"Narcissa, this is a surprise."

Narcissa looked him up and down, not fooled for a moment. "You used to be better at hiding yourself, old friend."

"I used to have more need of it."

Narcissa snorted delicately. "I have information, Severus. Information which will help your current associates."

"I have no current associates."

"Really?" Narcissa asked, with a subtle glance to his bedroom door. "I should have thought you had at least one. Lucius never kept secrets from me, you understand."

Severus's heart stuttered, but he tried to assure himself that Lucius knew nothing important. So he said, "Why should I trust any information from you?"

"The Dark Lord threatened my _son_ , Severus. My _son_. I shall not rest until the Dark Lord is defeated--or at the very least, dead."

Severus raised his eyebrow. Of course he knew that trusting Narcissa was generally unwise. However, she made a very compelling argument, and she had done so in less than ten seconds. He found that he believed her.

Narcissa asked, "Have you heard from Draco, or from Lucius?"

Severus hadn't, and said as much.

She nodded, then took a breath and released it. "There are two things that Dumbledore needs to know. The first is that, when my cousin died two years ago, he was the last to carry my mother's name. He left no will, so the will of _his_ mother was invoked, and his property went to my oldest sister. The Dark Lord now resides there, with my sister's blessing, and he wishes to put certain safeguards on the house. He feels these safeguards are necessary, because the charms he has in place now are not terribly effective if one knows how to talk around them, as you see."

Severus nodded mutely. He didn't know the specifics of the Black family home, but Dumbledore probably would.

"Good," Narcissa said. "The charm which the Dark Lord wishes to invoke is much more powerful, and is one that you are familiar with, as the Potters invoked it unsuccessfully many years ago."

Severus nodded again. Narcissa said, "The charm is powerful," then paused and frowned. Severus waited, and eventually Narcissa said, "My cousin's house has been empty for many years." Narcissa shook her head slightly.

Severus guessed that Narcissa was trying to say something else, and there was nothing for him to do but wait until she found a way to say it. Finally, she tightened her lips and said, "Trust is difficult. The weakness of the charm is choosing someone to trust. We can both agree: the Potters chose poorly. How familiar are you with the magic the Potters invoked?"

Very. He was very familiar with the Fidelius Charm. He'd been the one to research it; he'd found it in an ancient, crumbling tome, and suggested it to Dumbledore as a good way to keep Lily safe. The charm worked by a carefully delineated ritual that the owner of the home performed on their property and on the person they designated as Secret-Keeper. The charm hid the property from literally everyone but the Secret-Keeper, and, of course, the owner of the home. But then, only the Secret-Keeper could share the location of the home with others.

Severus was not bound under the same charms as Narcissa, so he said, "The Dark Lord wants to be Secret-Keeper."

Narcissa merely blinked.

"Bellatrix would have to cast the charm on the Dark Lord," Severus said.

Narcissa blinked again.

"But Bellatrix is in Azkaban, so either the Dark Lord would have to go to Azkaban, or..."

"Or my sister would have to go to him."

"And break out of Azkaban to do so," Severus said. "After which point, we will be more free to speak of these things, but it will do us far less good."

"Exactly," Narcissa said.

"Why--Forgive me, but I can't help but wonder why the Dark Lord is not at Malfoy Manor?"

Narcissa's eyes hardened. "I wouldn't have him in my home. I told him that the manor closed to me when Lucius fled with Draco, as I am not a Malfoy by blood. The Dark Lord, for all his politics, knows nothing of pureblood homes or customs. He believed me."

"I see. You said there were two things Dumbledore needed to know?"

"The prophecy, Severus. The Dark Lord is driven mad by it. Was there really a prophecy?"

"Ahhh," Severus breathed. "This is the information you will give to your Lord. And why should I tell you?"

But Narcissa only laughed, clear and untroubled. "You used to understand the line between truth and lies so much better, old friend. You shouldn't trust me, of course--but if you tell Dumbledore what I have said, you know that he would."

"Dumbledore is shrewd enough to know the difference between trustworthy information and an untrustworthy source."

Narcissa tilted her head carelessly. "As is the Dark Lord. He knows I have come to Hogwarts, of course. He knows I mean to ask after Draco. He knows that I will try to learn more of the prophecy. So tell me: was there really a prophecy, Severus?"

Severus smiled. "What does the Dark Lord think?"

"As I said, he is driven mad. He has twice failed to defeat Harry Potter. 'The one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord' seems to hold a kernel of truth. And yet, you betrayed him, so he begins to distrust all the information you ever gave him, including this."

There was a muffled thump from the bedroom. As if someone had been listening at the door and had suddenly sat down very hard. Severus tried to ignore it.

"Oh," said Narcissa. "Was your lover unaware that you heard part of the prophecy, and reported what you learned to the Dark Lord, so many years ago?"

Severus suddenly wanted Narcissa gone immediately. He opened his mouth to speak, and had to clear his throat and try again. "The prophecy was real, Narcissa. I never learned all of it, but what I told the Dark Lord was accurate."

There was silence, and Severus closed his eyes and hoped that Harry stayed in the bedroom. Narcissa could guess to her heart's content, but Severus would really rather not confirm her guesses.

"Are you aware of the Hall of Prophecy in the Department of Mysteries?" Narcissa asked. "The Dark Lord is. Tell that to Dumbledore." And Narcissa turned to leave.

Severus waited until she was gone, and then went into his room. He couldn't see Potter, and took a panicked step into the room and stumbled over something on the floor--an _invisible_ something on the floor--and Severus cursed himself and cast _Finite_. Harry sat there naked with his head in his hands.

"You knew I was a Death Eater," Severus said harshly.

"Shut up," Harry said.

As Severus didn't have anything else to say on the matter, Potter's request was easily accommodated. 

"Do you regret it?" Harry said.

"What good does regret do?" Severus said. "I did it; I have to live with it."

"Christ, Severus."

Severus sat down next to him.

"Why did you do it?" Harry whispered.

Severus shook his head, though Harry wasn't looking. "Everything...everything seemed so much more simple, then."

"Nothing has ever been simple," Harry said.

"No, but it seemed so," Severus said.

Harry put his head on Severus's shoulder. "When are you going to tell Dumbledore what she said?"

"That depends on you." At Harry's confused look, Severus said, "Do you have any other questions?"

Harry was quiet for a long time, and when he spoke, his voice was unsteady. "Who is it going to be this year?"

Severus was taken aback. "What?"

Harry snorted, but it sounded wrong somehow. "We've never been exclusive, Severus. I just...I just want to know."

"Know what, exactly?"

"Who I'll be fucking." Harry's voice cracked on the last word.

Severus stood abruptly. He couldn't be sure of Harry's feelings--did Harry miss having other partners?--or did he fear them?--but Severus was reminded so strongly of being tied up and forced to watch as the Dark Lord raped Harry, then as Avery and Mulciber and dozens of others did the same--and it was because of Severus--because Severus had taken Harry to that place--had stripped him down and taken his wand--nothing--he wanted nothing to ever remind him of that again--he was absolutely cured of that kink--he couldn't even imagine the appeal--

Not facing Harry, he took off his dressing gown and pulled on pants, trousers, a shirt, and his robes. Fully dressed, he finally turned to the boy. "Fuck whomever you wish. I will neither interfere nor participate. Now I must go to Dumbledore."

And he walked quickly away from the boy, away from his rooms, away from the memory of _that_.


	14. The hard limit

Ron had taken in everything Harry had said--and the things he hadn't said--over the last several months, and if he had to make a list of the things that bothered him the most about what he'd learned, it would be:

1\. Snape had raped Harry. (Harry had said that Snape was there the night that You-Know-Who returned, and that Snape was a Death Eater, and that all of the Death Eaters had raped him that night.)   
2\. The fake Mad-Eye Moody had...maybe not raped Harry, but had done something terrible that Harry mentioned only in passing, and was not ready to talk about. ("I've been more worried about what Lupin and Moody did," Harry'd said. But what had Moody done? Ron had never worked it out, and had been worried about it for almost a year, now.)

He was also worried about how there was some prophecy about Harry, and a thing about Horcruxes, but Hermione had been researching about prophecies and Horcruxes, leaving Ron to worry about the stuff that couldn't be found in books in the library. Ron kept his conclusions to himself--even thinking about talking to Hermione made his palms go sweaty--it would make it real--it would betray Harry.

But Harry had disappeared the night before, and while Ron lay awake in bed telling himself he was not worried, he thought about Harry. He thought about Harry's bloke, the mysterious older boy he was seeing--only how could it be an older boy? Ron had been sure the bloke had been a seventh year last year, which would mean that he would be gone this year, which would mean that Harry wouldn't have anywhere to sneak off to--no one to sneak off to see. 

Ron must have fallen asleep at some point, but he woke up at 5 o'clock, and Harry was in bed. Ron fell asleep again and didn't wake up until it was time for breakfast.

They had a full day of classes ahead of them, including Snape's class. But Snape wasn't teaching Potions this year--he'd taken over the DADA post, and rumour had it that Dumbledore couldn't find anyone to take over Potions, so the Ministry had stepped in and appointed one of their own as a teacher. "You can't blame the Ministry," Hermione'd said. "Dumbledore left a post vacant for two whole terms last year! And this is our O.W.L. year!"

Potions was their first class of the day, and Professor Umbridge didn't seem to like anyone very much, but Ron just tried to keep his head down and make a Draught of Peace like he was supposed to. But even though he followed the directions in the book as well as he could, his potion turned out terrible. 

"Mate, I think I might have accidentally made a Draught of the Deeply Disturbed," he said woefully to Harry.

Harry laughed. "At least I managed a Draught of Uneasy Acceptance."

Ron tried to laugh, but he could only think that they had Snape's class next. And Harry would have to sit through Snape's class, even after Snape had...

But Harry had done that all last year, hadn't he? After all, You-Know-Who returned during Christmas hols, which meant that Harry had sat through a lot of Snape's classes already, even after Snape had...

Anyway, Ron thought he could use a Draught of Uneasy Acceptance right now.

But things went badly in Defence Against the Dark Arts, and not just because Snape was teaching it. It was also odd because Professor Umbridge stood in the back of the class the entire time and took notes.

"Why is she here?" Ron whispered as Snape told them about the theory of the Shield Charm, but Hermione only shushed him. He glanced at Harry, who sat stiffly in his chair, facing forward.

But then Snape told them to break into pairs and work on the Shield Charm, and Professor Umbridge made an odd little "Hem hem," in the back of the room. Snape turned to her with a deadly glare. The toad-like woman looked back unblinkingly and said, "I don't think practical lessons are such a good idea, Severus."

Snape worked his jaw a bit, and then he set his shoulders. "Perhaps if you would aid me in a demonstration, then, Dolores?" And then, before Umbridge had a chance to agree, Snape pulled his wand and said, " _Incarcerous_." Ropes shot out of his wand and bound Umbridge tightly. The class froze, unsure whose side they should be on, but Snape only grinned. "The Shield Charm would block such a minor hex, but only if you beat your opponent to the casting. Perhaps you would like to try again, Dolores? _Finite Incantatem_."

The class leaned in with growing interest, but Ron glanced at Harry, who was as stiff as ever, and hadn't even turned around.

" _Incarcerous_ ," Snape said again, followed closely by " _Protego_ ," from Umbridge, but Ron wasn't watching them. Instead he watched Harry blink rapidly and go very grey.

"Too slow again, Dolores--would you like to try again or should we switch roles?" Snape said, sounding bored.

Harry panted a breath. And then another. Ron started to grow alarmed. "Harry?" he tried quietly. "Harry?" He tried to reach out to touch his shoulder, but Harry flinched so violently that he fell out of his chair and vomited on the floor. This got the attention of most of the class, but some of them were still watching Snape and Umbridge. Seamus was nearby, and reached out to pat Harry on the back--and Ron could have said it was a bad idea, if he could have found the words in time, but instead--

Instead Harry whipped around, caught Seamus's face with his elbow, yelled, "NO! _Protego!"_ and the spell was strong enough that it pushed Ron and everyone else--and the desks and chairs--away from Harry. Everyone was looking at Harry now, even Snape and Umbridge.

"What is the meaning of this?" Umbridge roared.

Harry blinked rapidly, and Ron was uncomfortably certain that Harry couldn't see any of them right now. "Harry?" he said. "Harry, are you alright there, mate?"

Harry looked towards him and, voice shaking, he said, "Ron?"

"Yeah, it's me," Ron said, and felt an overwhelming relief that was quickly replaced by complete bewilderment. What was he to do next? He looked at Snape and--

\--and the look on Snape's face and--

And Ron knew. Snape. _Snape_ was Harry's bloke. Snape. Since third year. And then Snape had been one of the Death Eaters who'd raped Harry, and last year Harry had told them that he wasn't seeing his bloke anymore--but when he came to Longbottom Heights, he so clearly _had_ seen his bloke again--

\--And Ron had been the one to write to Snape this summer, asking him to help Harry--

\--It was Snape. It had been Snape all along.

Ron didn't know what to do with that. He looked back at Harry, who was slowly standing up on shaky legs, and was still surrounded by his shield.

But then Umbridge strode forward. "Harry Potter, you will stop this nonsense at once!" she shouted, and then, " _Finite Incantatem!"_ Harry's shield collapsed, and Umbridge reached out to grab his arm.

"Stop!" Ron said, but Umbridge had already pulled her hand back; it looked burned.

"No," Harry begged, and Ron hated to hear it. "Please--"

" _Stupefy!"_ Snape shouted, and Harry collapsed right there on the floor.

Snape. Had been Harry's "boyfriend." Had been messing about with Harry since _third year_ , and had now Stunned Harry on the first day of classes, because Harry was clearly caught up in some awful memory, and Snape didn't want to watch it anymore.

"Class dismissed," Snape said, and strode forward to pick Harry up off the cold stone floor. 

"Bu--" Ron tried. "He--you--"

"That means you, Weasley. I'm taking Potter to the hospital wing."

Ron would hate himself for it later, but at the time, he could do nothing but stare as Snape carried Harry out of the classroom. He bit his lip and looked around him, and found that Hermione was standing next to him, and she looked as frozen as he felt. 

"Hermione," he said.

"It's post-traumatic stress disorder," she said in a small voice. "He was having a flashback."

He supposed that Hermione felt better when she could put names to things. He decided not to tell her about Snape, yet.

*

Harry's life took a turn for the worse after the debacle in the first DADA class of the year. First of all, Hermione only spoke to him in a voice that would be better used on a rampaging hippogriff, and then Ron didn't seem to know what to say, while most of his classmates had decided that Harry was a complete nutter, and Umbridge had decided the same, and finally, there was a front-page article in the _Daily Prophet_ about how Harry Potter was bonkers. The headline was literally _"Boy Who Lived--Bonkers!"_ There article proposed that Harry had cracked from the stress of the Triwizard Tournament. That he was used to getting attention now and would do anything to keep himself in the spotlight. It mentioned that Harry was behind Dumbledore's claim that You-Know-Who was back, and this was yet another sign that Harry Potter was mad, and was to be both distrusted and pitied.

Harry avoided Snape for the rest of the week, but used his Invisibility Cloak to sneak down to Severus's rooms on Friday night. He wasn't sure how warm Snape's reception would be, but at least he let Harry through the door. 

"Potter," he said.

"Snape," Harry replied. 

And then they stared at each other, until Harry couldn't stand it anymore.

"I'm not _mad,_ " he said.

"You are damaged, however," Snape replied.

"I'm fine."

"Why are you here?"

Harry snorted. "I don't know, maybe so we could fuck? Maybe so we could fuck someone else?"

"I'm not--" But Snape stopped himself before he said what he wasn't.

"You're not what?" Harry pressed.

"I'm not sharing you, this year." Snape squared his shoulders and looked directly at Harry.

Something about the word _sharing_ niggled Harry's mind, but at the moment Harry was more angry with what Severus said. "Why is that up to you?" Harry spat.

"What, do you miss it?"

"Sure, it's fun!"

Snape's voice went deadly. "So much fun that you can't help remembering the last time, even in the middle of my class?"

"Shut up," Harry hissed.

Severus shrugged at him. "It's an empty argument, anyway. I have no potential partners to choose from."

Harry scoffed. "Surely not all of your boyfriends are Death Eaters! What about Lupin?"

Snape took a step back, then advanced on Harry. "I would not let that animal so much as _look_ at you."

Harry wanted to hold on to his anger--"Shouldn't that be my choice?" he said--but his voice had gone all low and he was caught up in Severus's eyes. They were intense and possessive, and it had been a long time since Harry had been looked at like that. And then Severus reached out a hand and caressed Harry's face. 

And then Severus said something that Harry had never dreamed he would say. "Fuck me, Harry."

Harry was immediately so turned on, he was shaking. He attacked Severus with a bruising kiss, and made quick work of Snape's clothes. And before he knew it, he had Snape in front of him, on all fours, completely naked. Harry hadn't even bothered to remove his own robes--he'd only opened them up and pulled out his cock, and cast the lubrication charm. He touched Severus's arse, almost reverently, and slipped in a finger. "Severus," Harry said, taking out his finger. He pulled Severus's cheeks together and rubbed his cock between them, making Severus groan. Harry cast the lubrication charm again, and positioned his cock at Severus's entrance. "Severus," Harry said on a moan. "I'm going to put it in you now."

Severus just pressed his arse back.

"Oh, god, I'm going to fuck your tight arse--" and Harry pushed in, hard. Severus clenched around him, and Harry very nearly went blind with it. He made a rather embarrassing squeaking sound, but managed to not come. Beneath him, Severus panted and wriggled slightly, until his arse unclenched. 

"Good," Harry said, and rolled his hips. He scraped his nails down Severus's back and repositioned slightly, and thrust again. Severus gasped beneath him. "God," Harry said, and leaned forward, reached around and stroked Severus's cock as he pumped his own hips with abandon.

It was nice, and they both came, but he couldn't help thinking how much better it would have been if there had been another man there, filling Harry's arse with cock--fucking while being fucked--

He couldn't stop thinking it. It had been too long since he'd had a proper threesome. In fact, his last threesome--with Nott--had been more of a foursome, and it had been _brilliant_. 

As he and Snape lay panting on the floor, coming down from their orgasms, Harry thought about what Severus had said earlier. _Sharing_ , Severus had called it. Sharing was done freely, wasn't it? Something about that wasn't quite right. Almost to distract himself, Harry asked, "What if I can find another bloke willing to join us?"

The oddest expression crossed Severus's face. He looked--hurt? But then he just looked angry. "Potter, listen to me. I have watched too many men fuck you."

Harry felt like he'd been slapped. The reminder of--of that night--was shocking, and it took Harry's breath away. "That was rape," he gasped. "That wasn't fucking. That was rape."

Snape huffed. "Forgive me; it's hard to differentiate the two."

Harry scrambled up and away, taking several deep breaths and trying, very hard, not to attack Snape. He deliberately tucked himself back into his pants. "Shall I give you lessons?" he said tightly.

But Snape's face crumpled and he rolled away, hiding his face. "I deserve it," he said. "I deserve it."

Harry didn't know what to do. The certainty that had blazed through him only moments before was gone--was there really a difference between fucking and what those men had done?--And gone too was the desire to hold Snape down and make him take it--Harry could do it, he knew he could--he knew enough magic--that desire fled entirely as Severus lay curled up naked on the floor, sobbing messily.

"Severus," Harry said, and shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"The boys' bathroom on the fourth floor," Snape gasped.

Harry frowned. Was he talking about Moaning Myrtle? Because that was the _girls'_ bathroom on the _second_ floor--

"If you desire a variety of partners. You'll find them after curfew in the boys' bathroom on the fourth floor." Snape's voice was thick but steady.

"Snape--"

"Don't! Don't bring them here. Don't let me know. Just...let it be your secret."

*

Harry watched the Marauder's Map for the next several nights, and indeed, boys tended to frequent the bathroom on the fourth floor, especially after curfew. Pairs of them tended to be in the last stall. After watching for a week, Harry decided to give it a try. He went to the bathroom, let himself into the last stall, and sat down on the toilet and waited. 

Ten minutes later, a boy came into his stall. It was Graham Montague, seventh year and captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team. He had a leer on his face that quickly disappeared when he saw Harry.

"Potter!" he spluttered. "I'm sorry--I thought this stall was empty--" and he backed out. 

Harry hesitated only a moment--who had he been expecting, anyway--Draco Malfoy? _He_ still hadn't shown back up at Hogwarts after he and his dad ran away, the night when Voldemort returned. 

If Graham Montague was here tonight, then Harry was determined to be fucked by Graham Montague. "Wait!" Harry said, and followed Montague out of the stall. "I'd heard this bathroom was for...boys who were like me," he said.

Montague wouldn't look at Harry. "Boys who need a pee? Because that's what bathrooms are for, or so I've always thought."

Harry had no idea what the protocol was in this situation. He decided to go for direct. "I meant homosexuals," he said. 

Montague looked horrified. "I don't know what you've heard, but I'm not a poofter. I like pussy as much as anyone."

Harry had never had to seduce anyone, let alone someone denying that they even liked boys. What should he do? If Lucius were here, what would he tell Harry to do?

Suddenly sure of himself, Harry dropped his eyes and asked in a low voice, "Do you like mouths as much as you like pussy?" He knelt down in front of the older boy, who squeaked and put a hand in Harry's hair. Harry smiled and pulled open Montague's robes, and gently undid his flies. He pulled out Montague's cock, which was as thick and long as Harry had seen.

"Christ," Harry said, and kissed the tip and licked down to the base. He buried his nose there and inhaled deeply. Montague made an odd sound, and Harry pulled back and swallowed his cock deep into his throat. 

Montague grabbed Harry's hair and thrust uncontrollably, and Harry let him. "Merlin," Montague gasped. "Merlin, is Harry Potter--really--sucking--my--cock?" And then he came, which was good, because Harry couldn't take much more of that. 

After Montague had come down, Harry said, "So you do like mouths as much as pussy."

Montague laughed nervously. "Seems so, yeah."

"How do you feel about arse?"

"Merlin, are you serious?"

Harry shrugged.

Montague stared at him for a long moment. "That's not...usually what I come down here for. I...I meant it when I said I wasn't bent."

Harry hoped he hadn't misunderstood the purpose of the boys' bathroom on the fourth floor. "What do you come here for, then?"

"Hand jobs, mostly." Off Harry's look, he continued, "Girls don't put out like I'd like, and a hand job is better than being alone."

"Are...are most people who come here straight?"

"I dunno. I don't usually ask. Hey, do you want me to toss you off?"

Harry nodded numbly--this was not what he'd expected. But Montague took out Harry's cock, spat on his own hand, and proceeded to give Harry an exceedingly mediocre hand job. Harry stopped him after a few minutes. "I'm sorry," he said. "This isn't what I thought it was." He pulled his clothes back together as Montague apologised.

"I could try to suck you off, but I've never done it before." Montague looked horrified at the thought.

"Really," Harry said, "it's okay. You don't have to." And he fled back to his dorm as quickly as he could.

He hoped that it was just a bad night in the bathroom. He'd seen a lot of names on the Marauder's Map, after all, and Graham Montague had not been one of them. Surely the other boys were better, more willing...more gay.

He tried the next night, and met up with a sixth year Hufflepuff that Harry didn't know. The other boy knew Harry, of course, and after he got over his shock of meeting the Boy who Lived in the illicit bathroom after hours, he submitted Harry to ten minutes of extremely enthusiastic frottage while fully clothed. The other boy came; Harry did not. 

A few nights later, Harry tried again, and met up with a seventh year Ravenclaw, who said nothing about Harry being Harry Potter, but when he reached into Harry's pants to palm his cock, he said, "Is the _Prophet_ right when they say you're a nutter?" Harry pushed him away and walked right out of the bathroom and straight back to Gryffindor tower.

*

Ron had been biting his tongue for two whole weeks, not quite sure how to begin the I-know-you've-been-having-sex-with-our-greasy-Professor talk, but he was beginning to think that the longer he waited, the harder it would be to bring up. Harry had been disappearing at night again, but he seemed to be coming back earlier than he had before. So when Harry left once more after curfew, Ron decided that he was going to confront Harry as soon as he came back to the dorm.

He just wasn't quite sure what to say. But--well, he'd just made the Gryffindor Quidditch team. And he knew it wasn't because of his skills--his tryout hadn't been great, but once Angelina eliminated the people who didn't show up, and also the people who did show up but admitted that they would miss most practices--then, of the people left, Ron was marginally the best Keeper of the lot.

Marginally. It was good enough to be getting on with, really. And if he wasn't quite sure how to talk to Harry about his inappropriate relationship with a professor, well...Ron knew that sometimes it was enough to just show up and be willing to work. He'd just have to do his best to bumble through it, because he didn't think the conversation could wait much longer. 

He was still giving himself this pep talk when Harry showed back up in the dormitory, out of sorts and agitated, and much earlier than Ron expected. "Harry!" he blurted, drawing the attention of Seamus, Dean, and Neville. None of them had been asleep yet, but still. 

Harry glared at Ron. Ron hastily stood up and took Harry by the arm, saying, "Let's go down to the common room and play some chess."

Thankfully, Harry allowed himself to be led back downstairs, but when they sat down over by the windows (there were some seventh-years still over by the fire), Harry didn't look ready to tell all his secrets. "You've forgotten your chess set," Harry said.

"Yeah," Ron said, and wiped his hands on his pyjamas; they'd gone all sweaty. "Look, Harry," he began in a low voice, and looked up. Harry looked back at him, bewildered. Ron said, "I know about Snape."

Harry blinked, went ashen, then went dark, blinked some more, then sat back, trying to act casual. "Know what?" he said, but his voice cracked.

What if he was wrong? What if he said it and it was wrong and--

Ron set his jaw. "He's your bloke."

Harry's face did some interesting things, and Ron knew he wasn't wrong. "Look," Ron said, "I worry about you. That's all. And I haven't told Hermione, and I don't really want to, but I need to know you're okay."

Harry still didn't say anything.

"Are you okay, Harry?"

"Sure," Harry said. "I'm fine." He nodded.

"Okay. Okay, that's good." Ron didn't believe him, of course, but it seemed like he'd already been a little too honest tonight.

"Good," Harry said. He nodded again. "Is there anything else?"

So many questions fought to get out of Ron's head. Most of them sounded like Hermione, and they involved post-traumatic stress disorder and flashbacks and coerced sex and rape, but what came out of his mouth was, "Is he good to you?"

Harry blinked, but finally leaned toward Ron and said fiercely, "He's saved me, Ron. He _saved_ me." And then Harry got up and walked out of the portrait hole. 

*

Harry wasn't quite sure how he made it down to Snape's rooms, but when he got there, he regretted that he didn't have his Invisibility Cloak. He wasn't about to go back up to get it, though--not with Ron. Ron who knew. 

Harry couldn't even think about it right now. So he knocked on Severus's door, and then knocked again when there was no answer, and finally banged on the door until Severus answered. Harry pushed his way in and slammed the door shut behind him. "I'm here because I need you to fuck me, Severus," he said, and quickly dropped his robes and pulled off his tie. 

"Potter--"

"Just shut up, don't say anything, just put your cock in my arse." He shucked his shirt, then pulled down his trousers and pants, and stepped out of his shoes all in one motion. He straightened up and looked at Severus, who looked back at him, pained. "Well?" Harry demanded--

\--and that's when he saw Narcissa Malfoy sitting on Snape's sofa, daintily lifting a teacup to her mouth and taking a slow sip. She lowered her teacup and looked at Harry. "Hello there, dear," she said. "Don't let me interrupt."

Harry's head was spinning, and he reflexively made to cover his bits--but then he caught himself. He put his hands defiantly by his sides and stood up straight. "Mrs Malfoy." He'd been fucked by this woman's husband, and this woman's son. He would not be cowed. "How are you?" he asked politely.

She smiled. "Oh, I'm well, thank you."

"And how is Lucius?"

He didn't expect an answer; he'd only said it to wrong-foot her. But Mrs Malfoy continued to smile and said, "He's growing lonely. He told me something recently that I hadn't known. Would you care to guess?"

Harry mutely shook his head.

"He told me that he gave you to Draco. I admit, it surprised me at first--father and son enjoying the same body?" She glanced down at him, delicately, and Harry forced himself to stay still. She looked back up and said, "Not at the same time, I'm told. But I am intrigued that you have allowed yourself to be used by the Malfoy men in such a fashion."

Harry didn't know what to say. He looked at Severus, but Severus kept his eyes on Narcissa.

"Now Lucius has asked me for a favour, and I have asked him for a favour in return. I tell you this because both favours concern you, Mr Potter. Lucius has asked for you to visit him. I have asked that you not be allowed to see Draco. Lucius and I have agreed to these terms, Mr Potter, and I would ask you to abide by them."

That seemed backwards somehow. "You...you're okay with me and your husband--but not your son?"

"Understand that my son will be free to live his life as he desires, but only after he produces an heir. Until then, temptation must be avoided. Draco understands his duty, as his father did before him."

"Oh," Harry said, stupidly. That made some sense, he guessed. 

"If I allow you to visit my husband, will you promise to avoid my son, and not seek out his company?"

This seemed like a great idea, and just what he'd been hoping for. But he couldn't help imagining, visiting Lucius--with Severus--and it was like he was there for a moment--and he was tied up, and naked and helpless--he could feel Voldemort's hand in his hair--he flinched away and found himself pressed up against cold stone--

"Potter!"

Not again--Christ--he banged his head back against the stone, and it hurt but it focused him a bit. He couldn't quite breathe right, but he was sure that he was at Hogwarts, not at the Manor. Hogwarts. He breathed out.

Hogwarts. It was safer here. He breathed in.

"Potter."

Harry blinked and saw Severus, eyeing him cautiously, but keeping his distance. Narcissa still sat on the sofa, sipping her tea. "Mrs Malfoy," Harry said, fighting to keep his voice level, "please tell Lucius that I did not consent the last time, and I will not consent in the future." He wanted to say more, so much more, but it all got trapped in his throat. Narcissa simply nodded and sat her tea down. 

"Then I have no further business to attend here. Enjoy your night, Severus. Mr Potter."

After she left through the Floo, Harry and Severus regarded each other for a few silent minutes. Narcissa's words rang in Harry's head: _He gave you to Draco._ And then Severus: _I'm done sharing you._ The verb choices seemed wrong, somehow.

Harry spoke before he knew what he was going to say. "Did Nott pay to have sex with me?" Severus and Lucius had talked about money that night--but at the time, Harry hadn't cared--he'd felt so powerful--he'd held the men in his thrall as they'd fucked him, and Harry had ridden high on all of it--but if Nott had paid Lucius to have sex with Harry, then Harry hadn't had any power at all. If Nott paid Lucius, then Harry had been Lucius's pawn, his _whore_ , and if Severus had known...

Severus looked away. Then he walked to his bedroom without a word, and Harry stayed rooted to the spot. Snape returned with a small purse and handed it over to Harry. It was heavy and jangled slightly. 

"It's two hundred and fifty galleons," Snape said. "And it belongs to you."

Harry held it, feeling slightly sick. "Did Avery pay to have sex with me?"

Severus shuddered slightly. "That I don't know."

Harry thought about it, and then was quite suddenly tired of thinking about it. He said earnestly, "I want you to fuck me, Snape."

Severus recoiled.

Harry dropped the coin purse and took a step toward Snape. "Look at me," Harry said, and Severus did. Harry held his eyes and took another step forward. "When you fuck me, nothing else matters, Severus. Nothing but you, inside of me, making me feel alive, making me feel wanted, making me feel _necessary._ Fuck me, Severus." Severus had looked away again, and Harry dropped to his knees and started to undo Severus's flies. The man's cock was completely flaccid, but Harry wasn't exactly hard himself--it didn't matter. He knew they would both get there. He kissed the base of Severus's cock and smelled him and licked sweetly at the head, and Severus buried his hands in Harry's hair and moaned. Harry swallowed him down--his cock was getting quite hard already. Harry pulled back, cast _Lubricus_ on Snape's cock and on his own hand, then slid up Severus's body. He gripped Severus's cock in his slick hand, and Severus slipped one of his own hands down Harry's back. Harry rolled his hips forward, away from Snape's hand. "No," he whispered. "No prep. Just fuck me."

And finally, finally, Severus took charge, spinning Harry around and pinning him face-first against the wall. He held Harry's hands above his head with one hand, and positioned himself with his other. Harry just arched his back into it, and Severus shoved into him, hard. Harry cried out, but it hurt in all the right ways, and as Severus adjusted and set up a brutal rhythm, Harry's cries turned into moans. Severus let go of Harry's hands, and set about touching every bit of Harry that he could, stroking and caressing and biting, and Harry gave himself to it, only trying his best to pull Severus closer to him--and then Severus bit down hard on Harry's shoulder with a particularly deep thrust, and Harry came so hard his legs gave way. Severus caught him and pushed him hard against the wall, and jerked into him until he came. And then they both slid onto the floor. 

Panting, Harry flopped an uncoordinated hand over in Severus's direction and found something fleshy. "When you're ready for another go, just let me know."

Severus huffed, and Harry felt the breath on his hand. He was touching Severus's nose, then. Neither one of them moved for several more moments. Harry's mood turned darker as he slowly realised that his leg was resting on the coin purse.

"Harry?" Severus said, and stopped.

"Ready, then?" Harry said, wanting to distract himself from his current thoughts.

"Harry. Loathe as I am to say it, we need to talk."

Harry groaned. 

"There is too much between us that is unsaid, and..."

"And you think we need to say it?" Harry shot back. He took his hand from Severus's face and pulled the coin purse from under his leg. "Fine." He threw the purse across the room. "Do you want to start, or shall I?"

Severus spoke slowly and carefully. "The nature of our intercourse is...complicated."

Harry snorted, and Snape looked nettled.

"It was a poor choice of words, but I find myself...at a loss with you."

"I'll go first then. You and Lupin fucked me when I was a kid, and I didn't even know what was happening. You made me like it, it felt good, so I kept coming back. And then, last year, there were moments when I thought you loved me, and I thought I loved you. But instead, you gave me to Mad-Eye Moody, so he could fuck me in your own bed, rather than risk him telling Dumbledore about us. And then you tried to Obliviate me, as if you could erase your sins that easily--do you know that I had nightmares about Moody for months and didn't understand why? --And then you and Lucius let other blokes fuck me in exchange for money. And then Voldemort came back, and _everyone_ fucked me--which seems to bother you--what?--was it because they didn't pay first?--and now, even though it still feels good when we fuck, and I still like it, you suddenly--what?--This is where I don't understand, Snape. Am I getting too old for you? Does it put you off that I have pubes?"

"Harry..."

"Do I take too much initiative? Do I like it too much--is it that I can consent now?" Harry was starting to get deeply angry now, and didn't much care what he said. "I wish other people would do it for me, Snape, but the boys in the bathroom on the fourth floor are just fumbling teenagers, happy with terrible handjobs, using spit for lube!"

Snape closed his eyes, which set Harry off. "NO!" he screamed, and straddled Snape, grabbed his face and shook him slightly. "LOOK AT ME!" he roared, and Snape opened his eyes. The look in them brought Harry up short.

"I love you, Harry," Snape whispered.

"NO!" Harry yelled. "This isn't what love is! It's not! It's not! _Incarcerous! Silencio!"_ Harry's wand was nowhere near him, but the spells were strong and Snape was silent and bound beneath him. Harry's rage took him, and he wasn't sure what he was doing or why, but he pounded his fists into every bit of Severus he could reach. He wanted to _hurt_ Severus--wanted to hurt him so badly--hurt him like he'd hurt Harry--wanted to fuck him, but Harry's cock wasn't at all hard--so instead he just sobbed and kept hitting him. "This isn't love," he kept saying. "This isn't love!"

When Harry's rage finally wore itself out, he slumped on top of Snape, with Severus's tears wet on his cheek. "Don't you know the difference--" Harry sobbed, "--between rape and love?"

Severus didn't say anything, of course. Harry tried to pull himself together and rolled off of Severus. "Snape," he said. "Whatever love is, I hope to god this isn't it." He stood up, wiped his eyes, and got dressed. When he went to leave, the coin purse sat on the floor, between Harry and the door. Harry stared at it, frozen for a few moments. Then he picked it up gingerly and took it over to Severus, still lying on the floor, still bound, still silenced. 

Harry placed the purse carefully by Severus's head. " _Finite_ ," he said, and left without another word. 


	15. Penance and confession, in that order

Severus survived the next few weeks by doing what he had always done: he didn't allow himself to think about anything. He was ruthlessly short-tempered with his classes, which didn't help him in the eyes of Dolores Umbridge, who came to observe him more often than not. She informed him that he should neither have practical DADA lessons nor have demonstrations because, as she so sweetly put it, "Some of the students may react badly to such displays of magic. Mr Potter has already had a funny turn because of the dangerous spells." But Severus was definitely not thinking about Harry Potter, so he just sneered at the woman and only worked on practical lessons when she was not in attendance. It wreaked havoc on his lesson plans, especially as she turned up for every fifth-year lesson with the Gryffindors. As he'd managed several practicals with every other House, the Gryffindors were rather woefully behind.

If he allowed himself to think about it--which he didn't--it would have seemed that she was as much fixated on Harry as she was on him. 

Meanwhile, the student body grew to fear him more as their DADA professor than they ever had as their Potions Master. He even came down on his own House, making a second-year Slytherin boy cry. This made Severus so angry that he gave the boy a detention. 

The boy's name was Geoffrey, and when Geoffrey showed up at Severus's office for his detention at eight o'clock that night, Severus angrily locked the door behind the boy and told him to remove his robes. Geoffrey's eyes grew wide but he did as he was told, and stood looking at Severus, utterly terrified. 

Severus stared at the boy, panting. The boy's trousers were slightly frayed around the ankles. They were probably frayed because they were too long--his mother probably bought them that way because children of that age are always growing.

Severus was a monster. Geoffrey looked like he was about to cry again. "Put your robes back on," Severus muttered, and turned away. When he looked back at Geoffrey, the boy was fully robed once again. " _Obliviate_ ," Severus said. "Pull out a quill and some parchment. You'll be doing lines for me."

*

Ron couldn't help but notice that Harry was avoiding him. This was terrible for Ron, because the secret about Snape was going to explode out of him if he didn't talk about it, but the only safe person to talk about it with was Harry.

But if Harry kept avoiding him, Ron was afraid that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from telling Hermione. And who knew what Hermione would do, once she knew.

She would probably hex Snape. She would probably _punch_ Snape. She would probably punch him first, then hex him, then go tell Dumbledore.

None of these sounded like terrible courses of action, exactly, but how would it make Harry feel if Hermione punched Snape, then hexed him, and then told Dumbledore that Snape had been having sex with Harry since third year?

\--Probably not great. _Probably not great_ was the answer to that question. 

Which was why Ron kept trying to talk to Harry. Because the longer Ron stewed over the possibilities, the more he started to think that Harry's situation probably had to get worse before it could get better. And even when Hermione was at her bossiest, swottiest, worst self...well, even then, she had never really been _wrong_ , precisely.

And then Ron felt completely weird around Snape. Which was stupid, because all they ever did anymore in his class was read their textbooks while Umbridge watched over them very carefully. Snape just stayed at his desk and looked grumpy. But all Ron could think of was that Harry kept going to that man and having sex with him. _Sex_. Like, with kissing. With tongues. And _penises_. Ron wasn't even quite sure how that worked with two blokes, but he couldn't help thinking that however it worked, it seemed quite wrong to imagine Snape doing it with anyone, but especially with Harry.

And then someone in class would clear their throat, and Ron would realise that he was staring, and then he'd try to read his textbook some more.

But then, one day, DADA lessons went rather badly wrong, and it wasn't because of Snape or Harry. It was because of Hermione and Umbridge. 

They were supposed to be reading out of chapter three, but Hermione raised her hand and Snape called on her. "Yes, Miss Granger?" he said, sounding bored.

"Are we ever going to practice these spells, sir?" she asked, lowering her hand.

Snape worked his jaw. "It has been decided that it is best if you simply _read_ about the spells, Miss Granger." Snape, to his credit, did not even glance at Umbridge, but it was pretty clear to Ron that he didn't really need to. Ron turned to look at the short, toad-like woman, and she was grinning broadly. 

"But..." Hermione said. "Isn't it important that we at least practise some of these spells?"

"Hem hem," Umbridge said sweetly. "Whatever do you mean, erm, Miss Granger, is it?"

"Yes ma'am, and this is our O.W.L. year, and isn't there a practical part of the exam?"

"Indeed there is, Miss Granger, but surely if you read about a spell and remember the theory, then you should certainly be able to cast it in a controlled testing environment?"

Parvati Patil said, "The first time you want us to actually _do_ these spells is during our O.W.L.s?"

Seamus snorted, and everyone looked at him. His face fell. "Well, that's mad, isn't it?" he said quietly. Umbridge ignored him.

"If you know the theory, there is no reason for you to actually perform the spells," Umbridge said to Parvati.

Harry made a sudden movement, and Ron felt his stomach drop. 

"What about Voldemort?" Harry demanded. "What about his Death Eaters?"

The class gasped, Ron with them. Umbridge, however, did not flinch. 

"You-Know-Who is gone, Mr Potter, and his followers are either dead or locked safely away in Azkaban."

Harry did flinch at that. But he tried to cover it by standing up abruptly. "He's back, and he's got plenty of followers."

"Lies! Ten points from Gryffindor!"

"It's not a lie! And if Voldemort ever tries to cast _Incarcerous_ on any of us, I hope we've done more than just _read_ about the Shield Charm!" Harry was panting very hard, and Ron had a feeling that Harry's scenario wasn't completely hypothetical. He wondered if that had something to do with Harry's flashback on the first day of class.

"Do not speak that name Mr Potter! Ten more points from Gryffindor!"

"Mate," Ron said softly, but Harry ignored him and kept his eyes on Umbridge, who seemed to think that now was a good time for a speech.

"The Magical World has rarely seen such peace and stability as it does now, under the careful leadership of Cornelius Fudge and the hard work of all the dedicated men and women at the Ministry of Magic. Anyone--anyone!--who tries to say different is a liar, and trying to undermine everything we hold dear!"

"Voldemort is back!" Harry fairly screamed. "I _saw_ him, I--I--"

"Detention, Mr Potter! Eight o'clock! Every night this week! My office!"

But Harry didn't seem to notice any of the details, as he was too busy sicking up on the floor of the DADA classroom. 

"Class dismissed!" Snape yelled over the growing chaos. "Leave! Mr Weasley, take Mr Potter to the hospital wing!"

The rest of the class looked around in confusion, but Ron didn't need telling twice. He collected Harry from the floor and guided him out of the classroom. He hoped that Hermione would grab their bags and books.

When they were out in the corridor, Harry tried to shrug out of Ron's grasp, but Ron just kept saying quietly, "It's me, mate, it's Ron, we're going to the hospital wing, you're fine. It's me, it's Ron..." He walked them as quickly as he could away from the classroom, and since he couldn't think of a better destination than the hospital wing, he went in that direction. 

But before they got there, Harry seemed to be more himself. "Ron, Ron," he groaned. "I don't actually need to go to the hospital wing, really."

"You really okay?"

Harry shrugged, and Ron sighed. There was an empty classroom just in front of them, so Ron ducked them inside and closed the door. "You have to talk to me, Harry."

Harry groaned again. "No, I don't," he said, and sat down at a desk and covered his face with his hands.

Ron sat down, too, across from Harry. "Fair warning, then. If we don't talk, then I'm going to have to tell Hermione."

Harry lowered his hands, and he had an ugly look on his face. "Don't threaten me, Ron."

"Mate, it's not a threat. It's just a fact. I don't know how you can walk around with such a big secret, but I can't. I have to talk about it with someone."

Harry put his head down on the desk. "What is there to say?" he said, and his voice was slightly muffled, but Ron heard him clearly enough. "He fucked me. He fucked me in every way possible. He fucked me when I didn't even really know what the word meant. He could make me like it, or he could make me dread it, but I always felt like I had to keep going back to him. I don't even know why. He whored me out, Ron. He let other people have sex with me for money--he let Mad-Eye Moody fuck me just because he didn't want Moody telling Dumbledore about us. There are parts that still don't...Ron, one time he fucked me and it upset me, and he apologised to me by giving me over to Lucius Malfoy. So that Lucius Malfoy could have sex with me. That was his apology. And you know what? It worked! It worked!" Harry finally raised his head from the desk, and he looked utterly wrecked. "What does that say about me?" 

Ron was gobsmacked. _Lucius Malfoy?_ What was there to say about that? "Lucius Malfoy?" he said stupidly.

Harry snorted. "Lucius found out it was me--not some other kid Polyjuiced to look like me--and you know what Lucius wanted in return for his silence? For me to have sex with Malfoy. Draco."

Ron could only blink.

"So I did! Ron, I did." Harry put his head back down. "It's so fucked up."

It seemed crass to agree, but Ron didn't know what else to say. So he stayed quiet. 

"The night," Harry said quietly, and Ron had to strain to hear. "The night when Voldemort returned."

Ron flinched, and didn't want Harry to continue.

But then Harry said, "I thought--Lucius had asked him to bring me to the Manor. I thought--I didn't know they were getting money for it--I didn't know I was a whore. I just thought we were having sex with different blokes? It sounds so stupid. I was so stupid." Harry was quiet again, and when he started talking, his voice was much thicker. "So we went there. To the Manor. And I was so excited to have sex with someone new, and I got--I got--just--what I'd been hoping for. Fuck!" 

Harry stood and walked deliberately to the back wall of the classroom, which he pounded mercilessly with his fists and feet. Harry screamed and cried and kept on with the useless assault, and Ron could only hope that no one was walking by and would hear.

Finally, finally, Harry stopped punching and kicking. He put his head against the wall, and Ron was kind of afraid that he didn't know what to say when Harry turned around. But Harry didn't turn around. Instead, he said, "A few weeks ago, I went to him, I asked him to fuck me. He did, and then he...he...he said he loved me. I didn't know what to do--it made me so angry. I--I don't know what to do."

Harry's voice was blank, and Ron didn't know what to do about any of it. "How...how did you hold this in for so long?" he finally asked.

Harry shrugged into the wall. "When I was a kid, I didn't even know the right words. By the time I did, it was just a part of me?"

"I'm sorry," Ron said. "This summer, I--I'm the one who wrote to Snape, and told him I was worried about you. I didn't know--Harry, I didn't know."

Harry turned around and slid down the wall. His eyes were closed. "Ron," he whispered.

"Please don't hate me for it, Harry--I--"

Harry snorted, or sobbed, or both. "Ron, shut up."

Ron did.

"It was fine. It was good. Don't worry about the summer. That was the best part of hols, really--when I was with him."

Ron remembered what Harry had said before, when he came to Longbottom Heights. "You said he made you feel normal."

Harry didn't say anything, so Ron went over and sat down close to him, but not touching. Harry didn't move.

"It's..." Harry started, and was quiet for a while. "I feel...I never feel like I belong anywhere, except when I'm with him."

That sounded really sad to Ron. "But..."

Harry shook his head. "I know it's mental. I've known it's mental for a while. But I never have to guess--I never _had_ to guess, with him. I always knew where I stood. He's not...polite. He wouldn't say something unless...unless...Ron...do you think he loves me?" Harry finished on a whisper.

Ron didn't think that was the important question. "How do you feel about him?"

"I--he--he's a terrible human being."

"He is."

"He's cruel. He puts his own interests above everything else."

Ron couldn't disagree.

"He...after that night, he didn't so much as look at me, for months. He didn't fuck me again until I showed up and demanded it."

That didn't sound very romantic to Ron.

"He told me he didn't want to share me this year. Shit. Shit. He...he loves me. And when he told me, I attacked him."

"But...Harry, how do _you_ feel?"

"I...I've always loved him, Ron," Harry said. His face crumpled, and he pulled himself into a foetal position and started to cry.

"Here," Ron said, and pulled Harry into an awkward hug. Harry leaned into Ron, and cried on his shoulder, but kept his arms wrapped around himself. Ron was lost, so he just did what his mum did. "Shhh," he said, and patted Harry's back. "Shhh," he said, and Harry cried himself out.

When they stood to leave the classroom, Harry had a definite limp. Ron helped him along and said, "You have to tell Hermione."

Harry nodded. "I know. But not soon?"

Ron shrugged. "She'll know what to say. You might hate what she says, but it won't be wrong."

"I'll tell her," Harry agreed. "But not soon. Ron," Harry said suddenly. "Tell me if I wait too long."

Ron interpreted this correctly, and said, "I'll tell you before I tell her."

Harry relaxed.

"Ready for the hospital wing, now?" Ron asked.

"I reckon so, yes," Harry said, with false cheer. And so there they went, to heal Harry's foot, which turned out to have a broken toe, and his hands, which were quite battered.

*

If Ron thought that things would get easier after talking to Harry, he was wrong. First of all, Harry was out long past curfew for the rest of the week. He said it was because of his detention with Umbridge, but there was no way that any professor would keep a student in detention until midnight. Also, Harry refused to say what Umbridge was making him do. 

And then Quidditch practice was awful, because Angelina did her nut because Harry was missing practice. Ron didn't even bother to say anything in Harry's defence--he knew better than to try to calm someone down when they got in that state.

And then on Saturday, when Harry couldn't possibly have detention, he was out long past curfew again, and when he came back, _he_ was in a rage and wouldn't talk about it. All he would say is, "I got caught, and now I have detention next week, too."

_Caught doing what_ , Ron knew better than to say out loud. But did Snape get caught, too?

But at breakfast in the Great Hall the next day, no one was talking about Snape. They were all talking about how the Boy Who Lived was caught with Satterwhite--a seventh-year Ravenclaw!--and prefect!--in the boys' bathroom on the fourth floor.

Even Ron--who would never even be tempted by such a thing--even Ron knew what that meant. Harry hadn't come down to breakfast, and Ron knew why. He leaned in to Hermione, who looked very upset. 

"Did you know?" she asked him quietly.

Ron shook his head. "He was out past curfew last night, and he told me he'd been 'caught.' He didn't tell me anything else."

Hermione dipped her head and picked at the food on her plate. She said in a very low voice, "I heard Eloise Midgen in the loo this morning--she said Umbridge caught him."

"Merlin fuck," Ron muttered, and Hermione was not so distracted that she didn't punch him in the shoulder for it. "Ow," he said, rubbing it. "Do you know what she had him do for detention last week?"

"No, and he was very cagey when I asked."

"She doesn't seem like a nice woman," Ron said carefully.

"Ron...do you think Satterwhite is Harry's bloke?"

Ron's mouth got very dry, but he spoke normally enough when he said, "You should ask him."

"No," Hermione said. "I didn't think he was, either. I think his bloke must have left last year."

He felt like a traitor, but he couldn't help repeating, "You should ask Harry."

Ron didn't know what to think. He tried to imagine loving someone, and knowing that that someone loved you back, and then going to the boys' bathroom on the fourth floor to get tossed off by some Ravenclaw prefect. But Ron couldn't imagine loving someone who had done the things that Snape had done to Harry.

Harry seemed so twisted up--like he didn't know where to put any of his feelings. It made Ron very sad.

By agreement, Ron and Hermione followed Harry's lead for the rest of the day, and pretended like nothing was wrong. But on Monday night, they both waited in the common room for him to come back from his detention.

By the time Harry came through the portrait hole, it was nearly one o'clock in the morning. When he saw them by the fire, he froze.

"It's okay, Harry," Hermione said. "We're just worried about you."

He walked over to them slowly. "I'm okay," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione said.

Harry shot a glance at Ron, and Ron shook his head in denial.

"Talk about what?" Harry said.

"Anything. What's upsetting you. What Umbridge is making you do. Any of your secrets, really."

"You want to hear about how my proper place is on my knees?" Harry bit out.

Ron had heard fourth-year boys giggling about that very thing in the Common Room tonight. He'd used his prefect badge to give out his first-ever detention because of it. "Mate," Ron said. "It's terrible. We know. We're on your side."

Harry closed his eyes and hitched his shoulders up. It looked odd with his hands in his pockets. Then he blew out a breath. "Fine. Good. Thanks for the sympathy. I'm knackered. Can I go to bed, now?" He tilted his head toward the dormitory. He started to look deeply awkward with his hands still in his pockets.

Hermione, of course, latched on to this. "What are you hiding?"

Harry blinked at her. "My fondness for sucking cock?" he said--and Ron had to admit, had it been anyone but Hermione, that line probably would have been a great distraction.

"No," Hermione doggedly said. "What's in your pockets?"

"Nothing," Harry said, and took his hands out and showed them to Hermione, palms out. 

But Hermione went over to him--got very into his personal space, and Ron saw him cringing but trying to hold his ground, and soon Hermione was gasping and said, "What's this?! Harry!"

"What?" Ron said, because he didn't see anything. 

"What's she doing, Harry? That can't be legal!"

"What?!" Ron said again, growing alarmed. But then he saw Harry's hands. On one, there was a scab that spelled out "I must not tell lies," and on the other, there was a still-bleeding wound that said, "I must not submit to unnatural desires."

Within five minutes, Hermione had somehow gotten a bowl with Essence of Murtlap, and Harry was slouched over on the sofa, resting both of his hands in it. Hermione was wiping angry tears and Ron, though not crying himself, could sympathise.

"What a massive, massive twat," he said. And Hermione didn't even hit him for it.

"It's true, though, isn't it?" Harry said. "Not the lies, I mean--but the other."

"Harry, there is nothing wrong with being gay," Hermione said fiercely. "Don't let Umbridge or anyone else ever tell you differently."

"It's not about being gay," Harry said. He looked at Ron, and Ron shrugged. "It's Snape."

Ron held his breath in the silence, which went on for an uncomfortably long time.

Finally, Hermione said, "What do you mean?"

"Snape," Harry said again, as if he hoped this would explain everything. "Severus."

Ron couldn't help the colour that blossomed on his face. If Harry thought that first names would help, he was very, very wrong.

"What about him, Harry?" Hermione asked carefully.

"He...he's my...bloke." This last word was almost inaudible.

Hermione stood up very quickly, shouting, "Harry!" which made Harry and Ron jump. Then Hermione seemed to collect herself. "That's illegal, immoral, and certainly against Hogwarts bylaws!"

Harry started to look alarmed. "Calm down, Hermione!"

"Harry, he's using you!"

"Maybe I'm using him!" Harry glanced at Ron, but he was staying well out of it.

"It's not healthy!"

"How can you say that?"

"He's your teacher."

"And so he's taught me! So what?"

"He's...he's the same age as your father!"

"And my father is _dead!_ Snape is _here_!" Harry stood up quickly, upending the murtlap essence. He left it where it fell and stormed away from the fire, towards the dormitories.

"Harry," Hermione said, her voice broken. "I have to tell Dumbledore."

"Ha!" Harry said. "Dumbledore doesn't care."

"How can you say that?"

Harry sneered at her. "Just ask Dumbledore about _Professor Slughorn_. Ask him why _he's_ not teaching us this year!" And Harry stormed up the stairs to the dormitories.

Hermione looked at Ron. "You knew about Snape, didn't you?"

Ron could never, ever, lie to Hermione. "I'd guessed," he said.

Hermione sat down next to him and put her head on his shoulder. "When did you guess?"

"Our first Defence lesson of the year."

"Harry's flashback?"

"And the way Snape reacted."

Hermione sniffed. "All I ever learn in class is coursework, Ron. I'm glad you pay attention to other things."

He didn't say anything. Her head on his shoulder was doing funny things to him, but he didn't think that now was the time to acknowledge it.

"Do you think I should tell Dumbledore?" she asked.

He didn't. He really, really didn't. "I think you'll do the right thing," he said. "You usually do."

*

On an otherwise normal Tuesday night, Miss Granger knocked on Severus's office door while he was grading papers at half-past eight.

It had been three days since Harry Potter had been caught in the middle of a scandalous tryst with Xavier Satterwhite in the boys' bathroom on the fourth floor, and it was the second day of Harry's punishment for it. Not that Severus wanted to know any of this, of course, but the story was impossible to avoid.

He hoped that Miss Granger's appearance had nothing to do with Harry, but he'd never had much luck.

Miss Granger closed the door carefully behind her. "Harry's not yet reached the age of consent."

Severus put down his quill and pinched the bridge of his nose. She'd admitted to nothing direct, yet, so he replied in kind. "You'll find, Miss Granger, that Wizarding social structure is somewhat less modern than your precious Muggle codes."

Miss Granger narrowed her eyes. "Oh, so you're saying that it's fine for a teacher to be having sex with one of his students."

Severus lowered his head, but kept his eyes on her. He wouldn't patronise her, not when she so clearly knew. But nor would he back down, not when it had been weeks since he and Harry had...had intimate contact--and yet Miss Granger had used the present continuous. "Oh, it's frowned upon, certainly. But not against any rules."

"It's wrong," Miss Granger said.

"And yet, I can't help but notice that Harry is not with you, pleading his case."

"He's in detention tonight, as you very well know. Which, if you cared about him, you would do something about! Or are you angry with him, so you think he deserves it? And anyway, Harry is intimidated by you."

Severus suspected it would take him a while to unpack all of that. "'Intimidated'?" he scoffed. "Is that what they're calling it these days?"

"You have a position of authority over him."

Severus studied the girl. "Are you...are you attempting to make me feel... _guilty_ , Miss Granger?"

The girl's eyes blazed, but she spoke calmly enough. "Would that even be possible?"

"How very little you understand," Severus said scornfully. 

"I'll give you a chance to tell Dumbledore yourself. If you don't tell him, I will."

Severus laughed, even though it wasn't funny. But it was, a little bit. "I'll save you the trouble of waiting, Miss Granger. I have no intention of telling the headmaster, but please, don't hesitate to tell him yourself."

"You think he won't care?" Granger said, incensed. 

"The opposite, actually. He'll care in more ways than you or I could imagine. I think he'll find parts of it horrifying, parts of it heartwarming, but the context of who Harry and I are, and what we have been through and what we must do still--it will be very difficult for him to incorporate this into his master plan."

For the first time, Miss Granger seemed genuinely shaken. "Do you even care about him? Harry?"

Under pain of torture, Severus would never answer that question truthfully. "Miss Granger..."

"Have you been raping him since _third year_?" Her voice started to shake, and Severus would happily Obliviate her, but he couldn't be sure which parts to Obliviate to make a clean break--and if he simply removed this conversation from her memory, he'd just have to suffer through it again. 

"Go," he said gruffly. "Tell Dumbledore."

"Did you know that Umbridge is torturing him? Have you even looked at his hands?"

"Miss Granger. The password is 'Fizzing Whizbee.' Go."

Thankfully, the girl did.

*

Severus wanted to ignore the girl's warning. He wanted it to mean nothing. He wanted her to be an overreacting melodramatic teenager. Which was why he hated himself a bit for finding himself standing in front of Umbridge's office door. There was nothing for it, now. He knocked.

The repugnant woman opened the door, barely. "Yes?" she said sweetly through the cracked door.

"I was wondering if I might have a word, Dolores," he said, keeping focused on her face, not lifting his eyes over her head.

"Regarding what, exactly, Severus?"

"My lesson plans and Ministry-approved textbooks," he said, managing to not grit his teeth.

She smiled at him, and it was horrible. "I'm glad you've come around Severus, but this is a bad time. Perhaps tomorrow during lunch?"

She was looking right at him, and he at her--he slipped into her mind--

\--and found nothing but cats. Kittens. Furry, fluffy, mewling kittens.

He slipped back out, trusting her less than ever. "I'm afraid that I must order new books as soon as possible, Dolores."

"Pish," she said. "One more day won't hurt anything, and you can't even place an order this late at night!"

"You're quite right, madam. I'm sorry to have disturbed you." It was ridiculous, but he hadn't come to her office with any plan, and it was his own fault, really. He backed away and she closed the door. 

Severus pointed his wand at the door and cast, " _Homonem Revelio_." The spell revealed two people inside the room.

He stared at the door for several moments, not sure what he was going to do, not sure what he _could_ do. But Harry was almost certainly inside that room and--

Granger had been worried about what was going on in that room, right now. "Torture," she'd called it.

" _Bombarda_ ," he cast, without another thought, and the door flew off its hinges. 

He hadn't thought--he hadn't let himself give any thought to what he might see in that office. But when the door flew off its hinges, he was so certain that there would be multiple Death Eaters--and Harry bent over a desk--naked--helpless--Severus couldn't catch his breath--

\--and so it took him several moments to realise that Harry was simply sat at a desk--holding a quill--and turned around and staring at Severus like--like Severus had just blasted through the new Potions professor's door--and yet, Harry was fully clothed, to Severus's intense relief--

\--and Umbridge was spluttering at him--like he'd just blasted through her door, really, but then she marched up to him and said, "How dare you!"--

\--and Harry still hadn't moved.

"Potter?" he said.

" _Incarce--_ " Umbridge began, but Severus blocked her with a quick Shield Charm. Then he hit her with a silent _Levicorpus_ and followed with a quick Disarming Charm.

Potter was still frozen.

His hands--his hands. Granger had mentioned his hands. Severus strode over to the boy, and Harry knew--he _knew_ \--and the boy hid his hands under the table.

"I'm teaching him a lesson, Severus!" Umbridge bellowed from up around the ceiling. Severus ignored her.

"Show me your hands, Harry."

"He's stubborn and willful and needs a firm hand, Severus! He must learn acceptable behaviour!"

Harry blinked at Severus and slowly pulled out his hands. Severus saw them and registered the words cut into them with growing horror.

In short order, Severus had cancelled _Levicorpus_ , Bound and Silenced Umbridge, and had her floating along the corridor with a _Mobilicorpus_. They were headed to Dumbledore's office, and Severus had a somewhat reluctant Harry in tow.

"It's not that big a deal," Harry said, trying to shake his arm out of Snape's iron grip.

Severus didn't trust himself to speak, so he just tightened his grip on his wand, tightened his other grip on Harry's arm, and kept marching to Dumbledore's office.

Harry, thankfully, stopped fighting him, at least.

Unfortunately, he'd already barged into Dumbledore's office before he remembered that he'd sent Granger there not half an hour before. She was still in the office, sitting in a chair before Dumbledore's desk, and looking at Severus and Harry as if they were on fire.

"Severus!" Dumbledore said. "I would say that this is not a good time, but it seems you have quite a crisis on your hands!"

"Headmaster," Severus choked, and Dolores Umbridge fell in a heap on the floor. Severus had forgotten about her for a moment. He was frozen, and Harry was frozen next to him.

"Severus," Dumbledore said gently. 

Severus blinked. "Here," he said, like an idiot, and shoved Harry forward. He showed Harry's hands to Dumbledore. Dumbledore stood quickly and moved to Umbridge. 

" _Finite_ ," Dumbledore cast. "Dolores, please tell me the meaning of this."

Umbridge scrambled up from the floor. "He's-- _willful_ , Dumbledore, and I won't have it!"

"What manner of device did you use on him?" Dumbledore seemed quite calm, but Severus took a step back.

"Just a quill," Umbridge said.

Dumbledore blinked at her, and she said, "It was my own invention."

"Show me," Dumbledore said.

"I didn't bring it with me," she said.

Dumbledore glanced at Severus, who shook his head. "Then Summon it," Dumbledore said.

" _A--Accio quill_ ," she cast, and they all waited. When the quill arrived, she haltingly gave it over to Dumbledore. "It's not illegal," she said. 

Dumbledore took the quill over to his desk and held it over a blank parchment. " _Priori Scribendo_ ," he cast. Severus couldn't help it; he leaned forward to see what the quill would write. The quill moved oddly; it took Severus a moment to realise it was writing backwards, right to left, the last letters coming out first. Harry hissed. When the quill had finished, it had written "I must not submit to unnatural desires," in dark red ink. Dumbledore blinked at it, and looked at Harry. Harry clutched his hand and didn't look at any of them.

"Harry--" Severus said. Harry's hand was bleeding again--Severus could see it, despite the boy's pathetic attempts to hide it. "Bloody, buggering fuck!" Severus swore. " _Accio Dittany!"_

When the potion arrived, Severus decanted it in a shallow bowl that Dumbledore provided, and had Potter place his hand in it.

With that crisis managed, Dumbledore rounded on Umbridge. "Dolores," he said pleasantly, "putting aside the issue of the quill itself for a moment--why did you have Harry write that particular phrase?"

Umbridge spluttered. "You--you know about the boys' bathroom on the fourth floor, I take it?"

Harry made a tiny noise--if Severus hadn't been standing so close to the boy, he wouldn't have heard it--and lowered his head.

"I am familiar with it," Dumbledore said easily.

"I caught Potter in there--in a compromising position--with _another boy_."

"As much as we all wish that children would wait until they were older before they begin their sexual explorations--do tell me: which part was unnatural?"

Umbridge turned bright red, but she didn't back down. "Potter had his mouth on the other boy's penis, Dumbledore."

"Naturally, naturally. Yet you say 'unnatural' because--it was after curfew? Because it was in the bathroom?"

"They're both _boys_ , Dumbledore!"

"Ah. Thank you. I shall accept your resignation, then, effective immediately. Or were you not aware of the school bylaw that states that no educator shall discriminate against nor punish a student based on sexual orientation or identity? I helped with the wording, myself, actually--I thought it was important to close as many loopholes as possible. I imagine you would like to start packing your things posthaste. You are dismissed."

Dumbledore turned his back on her, broke the quill in half, and dropped it in the rubbish bin. Umbridge still hadn't moved. 

"You are dismissed, Dolores," Dumbledore repeated. He waved his wand, and Umbridge was pushed out of the office, the heavy door slamming shut behind her.

Severus actually felt a brief moment of satisfaction, but then he remembered everything else. He turned around and sat down slowly in the chair next to Miss Granger.

Dumbledore didn't seem to want to look at any of them. Miss Granger shifted uncomfortably.

Dumbledore finally turned around and spoke. "Miss Granger. Harry. Would you both be so kind as to leave Professor Snape and me alone? We have things to discuss."

Harry turned on Miss Granger. "You told?" he said, in a small voice.

"Harry, I had to," Granger replied, sounding very sad.

"Professor--Dumbledore--you--you can't sack him--" Harry said desperately.

"Harry," the headmaster said gently, "leave it to me. Please excuse us."

"But--but it's my business--you can't--"

"Potter," Severus said gruffly. Harry looked at him, eyes huge, and Severus shook his head and looked away.

"Harry, I will need to speak to you in the morning, before classes," Dumbledore said. "But I must speak to Professor Snape now, alone."

"If you sack him, they'll kill him," Harry said baldly.

"I won't 'sack him' before I talk to you, Harry."

This seemed to comfort Harry slightly, and he and Miss Granger left the office. Dumbledore waited until one of the portraits on the wall said, "They're in the corridor, headmaster."

Dumbledore looked at Severus, and Severus had to look away. He tightened his Occlusion--he'd tell Dumbledore everything, of course, but he couldn't let the man know the confused tangle of his feelings.

"I presume you know why Miss Granger was here tonight, Professor Snape."

Severus nodded mutely.

"Tell me what Miss Granger told me, Professor Snape."

"That I...have been sexual with the boy, since he was thirteen years old."

Dumbledore let that hang in the air for devastating moments before he said, "Is there anything you wish to add?"

Everything. Severus told him everything--beginning with that first night with Lupin in his lab, and ending with Harry's current anger at having been given to other men in exchange for money. He confessed to the Cruciatus Curse, Mad-Eye Moody, Obliviating the boy in that instance--he even confessed to Geoffrey Wheelin and the other children he'd violated over the years, erasing his crimes with Obliviation. He told of the night the Dark Lord returned, and how he cast the Tumescence Spell on himself so that he could rape Harry in front of the Dark Lord.

But he did not tell Dumbledore that he'd told Harry he loved him. Harry was right to be angry--what was love when weighed against his monstrous deeds?

When Severus was done, Dumbledore was silent for a long time. When he spoke, his words were terrible: "Harry cares for you, Severus."

Severus set his jaw. "I have groomed him to be so, Headmaster." And then he finally broke down in tears.

*

When Severus returned to his rooms, Harry was inside waiting for him. "You're not sacked?" he said.

Severus could only shake his head.

"Good, then," Harry said. "Good."

They looked at each other. 

"He didn't mean anything to me," Harry blurted. "Satterwhite. I didn't even know his name till the next day, when everyone was talking about it."

"I never suspected otherwise." Severus sat down heavily and buried his face in his hands. All of the emotion he'd felt tonight was roiling and transforming into something he could barely hold on to--he thought it might be rage. He tried to focus it, hold it back--Harry needed to leave, first. "You should go, Potter."

"Yeah," Potter said, but didn't actually move. "I mean, I meant for it to be a secret--you told me it was okay, if I didn't tell you--and I didn't mean for you to find out--"

"Potter. Stop," Severus barked.

"I won't go there again," Harry said.

Severus blinked and looked at Harry. "Go back there tonight, for all I care."

Harry looked as if he'd been slapped. "But--I thought--you said--"

The rage--was it rage?--gripped Severus. He wanted to shake the boy, but couldn't bring himself to touch him. He launched himself out of his chair and upended a table instead. "I'm a monster, Harry--you know it--you've seen it--you've told me! I just told Dumbledore--everything! I know who I am--I know what I've done!" He threw a teacup into the fireplace; he threw a book at the wall; he threw a lamp at the door. ( _This isn't love--this isn't love--_ )

But Potter hadn't moved. "You're different now, Severus," Harry said, and took a slow step towards him.

"No," Severus said, and he realised--the roiling emotion--it wasn't rage--it was horror.

"You won't lay a hand on me tonight, will you?" Harry took another step to Severus, and Severus backed up, barely hearing him.

"Harry, stop," he begged.

Harry did stop, just in front of Severus, who was pressed back against a bookshelf. "There," Harry said, and he was close--he was too close--Severus closed his eyes--

"I'm not sure either one of us knows the difference between rape and love," Harry whispered.

Severus shuddered, and tried to stop breathing, but Harry was so close--so close--

\--and Harry finally backed away, without once touching Severus. Severus released his breath. "Why did you--what were you--" Severus gasped.

"I was testing both of us, I think," Harry said. He hugged his arms to himself, suddenly looking quite young.

"Harry--you--"

"I'm still so angry with you, Snape. I hate you. But I...that's not all I feel for you."

Severus blinked. 

"We're not done. Whatever else we are, we're not done." Harry spoke the words so fiercely that it never occurred to Severus to doubt them. And then Harry left.


	16. Things long buried

Harry did not want to talk to Dumbledore the next day. He wanted to pretend that he forgot, that he got busy and it slipped his mind, but that would have been a stupid lie. Besides, Hermione wasn't likely to let him forget. 

But as he sat in Dumbledore's office, he couldn't meet the headmaster's eyes. And he tried very hard not to stare at Dumbledore's ruined and blackened hand, and tried very hard to pretend that Dumbledore's questions didn't bother him.

"Would you please tell me about your dealings with Professor Snape, Harry?"

Harry shrugged. It was mortifying. What was he supposed to say?

"Is Professor Snape currently engaged in sexual relations with you?"

Harry just shrugged and kept shrugging. "Have you ever known Professor Snape to involve other students?"--shrug--"Did you ever want him to stop?"--shrug--"Are you afraid of him, Harry?"

At that, Harry glanced up at Dumbledore. "No," he said, and looked away again.

"Can I do anything to help you, Harry?"

Harry resumed shrugging.

Dumbledore sighed. "Hogwarts--is a very old school, and possibly some of its policies are outdated. The former heads informed me of quite a bit of school history last night. Did you know it used to be common for teachers to marry their students? Usually, male teachers married their female students, and usually, the couples would wait until the younger one was out of school, but there were always exceptions to this. Most recently, in 1874, a Professor Selwyn married a fifteen-year old student when she became pregnant with his child. Neither Professor Selwyn nor his young bride were penalised for this--she moved from Gryffindor tower into his rooms, and they raised their child at Hogwarts while she finished her education. He continued to teach, and she eventually became Headmistress of this school." Dumbledore gestured at one of the portraits behind him; Harry glanced up to where a regal-looking woman waved at him.

"There have, of course, been questions of fairness in grading when it comes to teacher-student relationships, but I think everyone could safely agree that Professor Snape has shown you no favouritism over the years."

Harry shrugged, but couldn't help but think that he should have received failing marks in Potions last year. But then, he probably should have failed all his classes, but not even Binns had failed him. Every single teacher had graded him 'Acceptable.'

"However," Dumbledore continued, "there are complicating factors to the current situation. Professor Snape has implied that his relationship with you was not always consensual."

It wasn't a question, but Harry shrugged anyway.

"Do you agree with Professor Snape's assessment?"

Harry was annoyed, but he kept his reply to another shrug.

"Harry, it's important for me to know--did you choose to have a sexual relationship with Professor Snape?"

Harry couldn't help it; he snorted. 

Dumbledore stayed quiet and waited for more of a response, so Harry said, "I haven't _chosen_ much of anything in my life, honestly."

"Harry," Dumbledore said carefully, "did Professor Snape rape you?"

Harry deeply hated that word. "Did Professor Lupin?" he shot back with venom. "Did Professor Moody? Did Voldemort? And all the Death Eaters? Did stupid Slughorn want to?"

Dumbledore blinked. "Harry..."

"Did I want to be part of a prophecy? Did I want my parents to die because of it? Did I want to live with my aunt and uncle? Did I want Voldemort to use my blood in his little resurrection ceremony? Did I want to die that night?" Harry's voice got louder and louder, and with the last question, several glass baubles exploded on Dumbledore's shelves. Harry was standing up with his fists clenched. "Do I want to be talking about this with you?! NO! Do I think Snape deserves to be sacked? NO! NO NO NO!"

Harry panted, and began to feel embarrassed when Dumbledore didn't react at all. Now it was Dumbledore who wouldn't look at him. Feeling oddly chastised, Harry sat back down. 

"Harry...the staff at this school are dedicated to the safety and well-being of its students."

Harry could only blink at him. 

"I cannot apologise enough for how egregiously I have failed to protect you."

Not knowing what else to do, Harry shrugged and looked away.

"I will not remove Professor Snape from this school unless you think it's necessary."

Harry glanced back at Dumbledore, his mouth suddenly dry. "Th--thank you sir," he rasped.

"Do you wish to formalise your relationship with Professor Snape? Perhaps move in to his rooms?"

"No!" Harry blurted in horror. "No, sir--I--Gryffindor tower is fine."

"Very well. Is there anything else to be said in the matter?"

Harry shrugged, then thought better of it. He shook his head.

Dumbledore sighed and said, "Very well." Then he folded his hands carefully on his desk and regarded Harry for a long moment. "I keep waiting..." he said, then trailed off. "There is a conversation I have needed to have with you for some time, Harry, and I've been foolishly hoping for a good time to have it."

Uselessly, Harry shrugged.

"I have tasked Professor Snape with the job of finding and destroying Voldemort's Horcruxes."

This didn't quite sink in right away, and Dumbledore let the silence stretch. 

"But..." Harry said. He'd not given it much thought over the last few months--he'd had so many other things to worry about--but he'd assumed that it was his right (as one of Voldemort's unwitting Horcruxes himself) and his duty (as the one prophesied) to hunt down the Horcruxes.

Besides, he knew what they were. He could see them--almost like they were a part of his own history. The diary, the ring, the locket, the cup, the diadem, the snake.

"But..." he said again, stupidly. It was only that--well, he didn't know where they _were_ , did he? And he didn't know how to destroy them. He knew that the Killing Curse which destroyed the Horcrux within him only worked because of a fluke--Harry hadn't been a proper Horcrux, really, because Voldemort had not sealed him, as it were, with the required ritual. His mother had told him some of this, when he had been dead, and he'd guessed some of the rest.

"But what about me?" Harry finally said, and he immediately hated himself, a little bit, for how he whinged.

"Your help would be invaluable, Harry. But I don't want you to feel that this is yet another thing that you have no choice in."

"That doesn't matter," Harry said. Did it? "The prophecy said that I was the one."

"The prophecy is meaningless, Harry, unless you give it meaning."

For something so meaningless, it had certainly fucked up his life. "It's not meaningless to Voldemort, Professor," Harry said.

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Still, I would not like it if you based important decisions on a bit of bad prose."

Harry frowned. "I want to destroy the Horcruxes. It's my right."

Dumbledore looked very sad. "Harry...I wish this could have waited until you were twenty--or even seventeen."

Harry stood up abruptly. "But instead it began before I was even born. I wish that it was finished when I was eleven--or even when I was one! But if I can finish it when I'm fifteen--well, better late than never."

Dumbledore nodded. "Harry, will you be able to work with Professor Snape on this task? I confess, I think he is the best qualified, but I can certainly find someone else if you would rather."

"No, no," Harry said, confused. "Snape is fine." Not ten minutes ago, Dumbledore had suggested that Harry move in with Snape, but now he wasn't sure if Harry even wanted to work with him? 

Dumbledore dismissed Harry soon after that, but didn't say anything else about Horcruxes or the mission to destroy them.

*

Severus hated his entire miserable life.

Teaching should have been easier without Dolores Umbridge forcing her way into his lesson plans, but instead he felt that his class was pointless. Defence Against the Dark Arts, indeed. How were the students to defend themselves against predators like himself? Who would teach Defence Against Rapists and Abusers?

It couldn't be him. He'd never successfully defended himself against a rapist or an abuser, and had only succeeded in becoming one himself. And now, Harry was so angry--had Severus turned Harry into an abuser as well? ( _This isn't love_ , Harry had shouted as he'd hit Severus--Severus had been bracing for the attack to become sexual, and was almost surprised when it didn't--)

It didn't matter. He assigned book work in all his classes. Dolores Umbridge would have been happy. In the evenings, Severus drank himself into oblivion. It kept him from wondering if Harry had yet victimised a younger boy, himself.

Meanwhile, the task of teaching Potions fell to Percy Weasley, who was appointed to the position by the Ministry. This offended Severus, who set aside his personal mortification enough to confront Dumbledore about it. "Why not hire Horace Slughorn?" Severus demanded. Dumbledore's only answer was an infuriating nonanswer.

Percy seemed to have been instructed to shadow Severus as well, but the young man's saving grace as a faculty member was that he was so intimidated by Severus that he only showed up to one of Severus's classes, then stopped bothering Severus altogether.

In fact, almost everything stopped bothering Severus. He didn't care enough about anything to let it bother him.

( _This isn't love--this isn't love--this--isn't--_ )

Two weeks after he confessed his sins to the Headmaster, Dumbledore summoned Severus to his office directly after supper, but when Severus arrived, Dumbledore was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Poppy Pomfrey was there. 

"Hullo, Severus," she said. "There's nothing to be gained by subterfuge, so I'll be frank: Albus is worried about you and wished for me to talk to you."

Severus felt a brief flare of rage, quickly drowned in a sea of apathy. He wondered how long he'd have to listen before he could get back to his rooms and have his first glass of firewhiskey.

Poppy continued, "You know, of course, that I am a Mind Healer as well as a nurse, and that I've taken Vows of Secrecy. More than that, I hope you know how much I value personal discretion."

Severus felt something akin to humiliation, but didn't speak. He waited for his apathy to take back over, but the apathy couldn't be summoned at will. ( _This isn't love._ )

"I tried to tell Albus that ambushing you like this was a bad idea, so if you'd like to skip to the part where you tell me to bugger off, and I'll skip to the part where I tell you my door is always open should you need to talk, then I can honestly say that this went as well as I'd hoped."

Apathy--where was his apathy? Instead, humiliation burned. He felt a sick need to feed it. "What has Dumbledore told you?" he rasped.

Poppy regarded him. "Is there anything you wish he told me, so that you wouldn't have to say it yourself?"

Severus closed his eyes, then opened them again, and tried to enter her mind. She was cool, clinical. Detached. He found nothing there. He withdrew. 

"Severus," she said gently, "there are many types of discretion."

"Many types of indiscretion as well," he said.

"True."

"Are you to report back to him? Dumbledore?"

"About what? About what we say here?"

"Of course about that!"

"Not as a condition of your continued employment. Nor as a condition of mine, unless you disclose a desire to harm yourself or others. But in general terms, the headmaster wishes to be reassured of the health and stability of his staff, and if I may do so--in general terms--then I would like to, yes."

"And if I ask you to tell him nothing?"

Poppy smiled. "Then I'll tell him that you asked me to tell him nothing, and I think we can both agree that, in that case, Albus would be quite well pleased."

Severus sat down, frozen. He had no intention of telling this woman anything. Of course not. What would he even say? _I've made it a habit of taking sexual pleasure from children?_ Or, _Harry Potter is angry with me because I let Death Eaters have sex with him in exchange for money?_ Or, worse yet, _I'm not capable of love._

He cleared his throat and said, "Did Dumbledore want you to talk to--to anyone else?"

Poppy looked confused, but said, "Of course. You're not the first person at Hogwarts who's been in a rough patch and in need of someone to talk to, you know."

"No, no, no, I mean, now--I mean about this." He meant Harry of course, but he didn't want to say it.

"About your problems? Severus, I talk to you about your problems. I talk to other people about their problems."

"Are you talking to Harry Potter?" Severus asked baldly.

Poppy's face was blank as she said, "Discretion, Severus."

She must have spoken with Potter. If Dumbledore was not a complete fool, he would be more worried about Harry's mental state than his own. At all costs, Dumbledore must prevent Harry from becoming an abuser--becoming like Severus. He felt cold fear, and tried to slip into Poppy's mind again, and met with the same detached nothingness. He beat against it; tried to force his way in, only to mentally jerk away when she placed her hand gently on his arm. 

"Severus."

He was defeated. It happened so easily. "Whatever he's told you," he panted, "it's true." He wanted to leave, but he was weirdly held in place by Poppy's hand, still gentle on his arm. 

"Come see me next week," she said. "In my office." Her eyes darted to the portraits behind Dumbledore's desk, then back to Severus, who agreed immediately--anything to get her hand off his arm. 

*

Severus had no intention of visiting Poppy, but Poppy must have known that and visited him herself before the end of the next week. She showed herself into his classroom just after his last class. 

"Severus," she greeted him, and closed and locked the door behind her. "Cast whatever privacy spells you think are necessary."

Severus blinked at her. "None are necessary, Poppy, as I've nothing to say to you."

Poppy nodded, but sat down at a student desk. "I find myself wondering," she said slowly, "if you have any idea about my House affiliation."

Severus didn't care. He turned away.

"I begged the Hat to put me in Hufflepuff, but it refused and put me in Slytherin."

Severus didn't reply.

"The Head of Hufflepuff that year was a Professor Tugwell--Hubert Tugwell. He taught astronomy, and he usually asked my friend Janelle to stay after class. None of us thought anything of it, but before Christmas, Janelle threw herself off the Astronomy Tower. She was twelve years old, and post-mortem diagnostic spells showed that she was pregnant. I found out about all this later--but at the time, all I knew was that she killed herself and Professor Tugwell was sacked for it."

Finished with her story, Poppy let the silence settle until Severus was uncomfortable with it. 

"So is that why you became a Healer? To help children like Janelle?" he asked.

"Maybe at first," she said carefully. "But...as I got older, I started to wonder why no one had helped Tugwell, years before."

Severus snorted. "He made his choices," he said.

"He did indeed. But undoubtedly he had been introduced to certain patterns of behaviour when he was too young to defend himself against it."

Severus's stomach dropped to his toes. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists. "Then you should help Harry Potter," he gritted out, and tried to walk out of the room, but the door was firmly sealed against his exit.

"Severus," Poppy said, and hesitated.

Whatever she wanted to say, Severus didn't want to hear it. "I've told you, everything you've heard about me--whatever Dumbledore said, whatever Potter said--it's true. I'm a--a--"

He wanted to say "a rapist," but the word was so harsh. So bald. 

"What are you, Severus?"

He shook his head.

"What have Albus and Harry told me about you?" she pressed.

He opened his eyes and looked at Poppy, who smiled sadly. "Don't try Legilimency again," she told him. 

He looked away. "I wouldn't dream of it," he muttered.

"What do you want so badly for me to know, but are trying so hard not to tell me?"

What did he want her to know? Nothing. He wanted her oblivious. He should throw _himself_ off the Astronomy Tower. Maybe Poppy would advocate for it, too, if she knew.

"I raped Harry Potter," he said. "I gave him to other men to be raped."

Poppy didn't say anything, so he glanced at her. She nodded.

"I've damaged him. At one time, he thought he loved me. But now..." 

He couldn't say it. The words were impossible to say. _This isn't love_. Harry--his betrayed eyes when Severus left him naked in a room with the fake Mad-Eye Moody--the way he looked at Severus the first time he pierced his nipples--when he'd sat down deliberately on Nott's cock and locked eyes with Severus--Harry's dazed look the first time Severus kissed him, just after the first time Harry had licked Lupin's cock--and finally, Harry's choked sob as Severus raped him in front of all of the Death Eaters--

"But now I love him," Severus said, surprising himself. "I love him and he is repulsed by me. I deserve his revulsion."

Poppy was silent for a long while, so Severus finally looked at her again. When he did, she asked, "Is that the worst of it?"

He scowled. "Were you expecting details? The details are worse than you can imagine."

She bit her lips. "Who modeled this behaviour to you?"

" _Modeled this behaviour_?" he repeated incredulously.

She sighed. "With rare exceptions, abusers were once abused."

He stared at her.

"If you're unwilling to talk about it, I want you to think about it. Who modeled this behaviour to you, and did you ever tell anyone about what happened, and if so, how did that person respond? The answers to these questions are fairly strong indicators of future behaviours."

He sneered. "Those are very delicate euphemisms."

"They are. And yet we still understand each other, I hope."

He looked away. "Poppy," he said.

She replied, "Expect me again next week," and waved her wand to unlock the door. He should have let her leave first--it was his classroom, after all--but he was nearer the door, and what dignity could he claim in any case? The moment Poppy unlocked his door, Severus fled his own classroom. 

He went straight to his rooms, skipping supper so that he could pour his first glass of firewhiskey early. He tried not to think about the answers to Poppy's questions. 

_Who modeled this behaviour?_ \--

_Did you tell anyone?_ \--

_How did that person respond?_ \--

What rubbish. What happened, happened, and Lucius had helped him--and if Poppy tried to reframe his past into some sort of--of--origin story for Severus's own behaviour--well, that wasn't _on_. Severus had done so much worse than what was done to him. His past wasn't tragic so much as it was mundane. Trite. He took another deep drink of firewhiskey.

He was asleep face-down on his sofa, and slowly realised that he was not alone. He was not alone and was naked from the waist down, and Harry was on top of him. "Sev," he said, "Just hold still and be quiet."

"No, stop," Severus said, but Harry cast the Silencing Charm and shoved into him brutally. Oh, god, it hurt, hurt so much, and he couldn't scream, he tried to put the pain in a box, tried to focus on anything other than his burning arse, and the hard sink underneath him, tried to kick his feet, tried to summon his magic, tried to do anything to get Harry off of him, out of him, away from him, but it just kept going and he couldn't box up the pain, even as a tear escaped, and then another, was it ever going to end, was Harry ever going to finish?--and finally, finally, Harry grunted and pushed Severus's head down hard, nearly hitting it on the taps, but Severus didn't care, because the cock up his arse was finally not so insistent, and was finally slipping out, the horror was finally over, and Harry was off his back, and Severus turned around and looked at him, and Harry fastened his robe and smiled. "Until next time," he said--

And Severus woke up with a start. He was on his bed--not on the sofa--not in the boys' bathroom--but very much alone.

*

Harry had an easier time forgiving Hermione than he would have guessed. It helped that she looked horribly guilty every time she looked at him, and that Ron didn't press.

But during one Diviniation class, when they were supposed to be interpreting one another's dreams, Ron said, "Hermione asked me to ask you if you've forgiven her yet."

Harry shrugged. 

"I'm not saying your should forgive her, or not forgive her, but..."

"Ron, do you remember how I had to go talk to Dumbledore after breakfast, the day after Hermione told on me?"

Ron nodded.

"Dumbledore pretty much asked me if I wanted to marry Snape."

Ron spluttered. "Wh--what?"

"Yeah. So, imagine that you had to have The Talk with Dumbledore, and then you had to explain to him--to _Professor Dumbledore_ \--that yes, you shagged someone, but no, Professor Dumbledore, I'm not ready to 'formalise our relationship'."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

Professor Trelawney drifted by just then and asked about their dreams. When she left, Ron leaned in and whispered, "Did Dumbledore say anything about--erm--about it being--"

Harry felt the word coming, and braced himself, but then Ron continued--

"--er, non-consensual?"

Harry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He was glad that Ron knew better than to say it, but even in that moment, he knew that he had Hermione to thank for it. She may have been meddling, but at least she had a great vocabulary.

"Yeah. He asked about that," Harry said.

"What'd you say?"

"I--er--I hedged."

Ron stared at him, and Harry looked away. It wasn't any of Ron's business, anyway--but as Harry figured it, there were only two times when Severus had truly not had Harry's consent--and one of those times--at the start of fourth year, with the Cruciatus Curse--it was only because Harry was probably too nervous to really be into it, so that wasn't really Severus's fault. And the second time--well, Harry didn't like to think about that.

But Ron just kept staring at Harry, waiting for him to say something, so Harry just said, "It's fine."

After class, just before they went to the Great Hall for lunch, Ron leaned over to tell Harry in a low voice, "I can't say I agree with her all the time, but have you ever known Hermione to be wrong?" Then Ron pulled away and shrugged at Harry as he went to sit by Hermione. Harry sighed and sat a little ways down, by Neville and Dean. But that evening, he sat with Ron and Hermione in the common room to work on his Transfiguration homework. Ron gave him a small smile and Hermione looked stunned, but they mostly just spent the evening in silence.

They spent a week or so, building up a tentative trust, when Hermione seemed to have had enough, and finally spoke to Harry directly.

"You've, er, you've been in the common room at night a lot more often, lately," she said, but it sounded a lot like, _I hope you're not still shagging Professor Snape, Harry, because I heartily disapprove of that behaviour._

Harry looked at Hermione, but didn't hold her gaze. He shrugged.

Encouraged, Hermione continued, "It's good. It's good to spend time with you; we'd been missing having you around."

Harry looked down.

Ron tried to rescue him. "Have you started your Charms essay?" he asked.

But Harry was too concerned with what Hermione wasn't saying, and he wanted to explain some things to her. He was quiet for a moment, and Ron and Hermione exchanged a look. "I still have feelings for him," Harry said in a low voice. 

This was met with silence. Hermione broke it, of course, but she sounded uncertain. "Harry..."

"No, please, whatever you're going to say, I've probably already told it to myself a million times. I know that what we did was...it wasn't normal, and maybe a little messed up, but I still have feelings for him."

Again, Ron and Hermione were silent.

Harry said, "I just...need you to know that."

Hermione nodded, and teared up. "He doesn't deserve it, Harry."

Harry's voice went hard. "Most people don't get what they deserve, Hermione."

Hermione wiped a tear and looked away. But her voice was steady when she said, "And a lot of people don't deserve what they get, Harry."

Harry looked away, defeated. "I've decided not to ... not to see him. Not for a while, anyway. Not until I sort through some things."

Hermione said, "You need a therapist."

Harry blinked and looked at Ron, who shrugged. "You could have told her," Harry said to Ron.

"Didn't ever seem like the right time," Ron muttered.

"Tell me what?" Hermione demanded.

"I--Dumbledore wanted me to talk to Pomfrey. She's a mind-healer. I've been seeing her every Tuesday, when you're in Arithmancy."

"How is that going?"

Harry suddenly felt intolerably awkward. He didn't know what to do with his hands. "Fine. Good. Fine," he said, while examining his fingernails. "I mean--it's fine, yeah."

Hermione nodded, and seemed to gather herself to say something important. "Harry...I know that I can--Ron says I'm too opinionated. But I can't help how I feel, Harry, and I don't want you to get hurt."

The thing was, Harry could appreciate that. So it was that Harry forgave Hermione more quickly for telling Dumbledore about Snape than he did for the time in third year when she told McGonagall about his Firebolt.

*

In truth, Harry's sessions with Madam Pomfrey weren't stellar. He could talk about what happened to him--that was fine, he couldn't help those things any more than he could help it that the planets orbit the sun. But Madam Pomfrey tended to ask about his feelings. How did Harry _feel_ about that, how did it make Harry _feel_ when Professor Snape did the things he had done.

Those questions were harder, because for the last several years, what Harry _felt_ was that everything would be okay if Severus would just keep fucking him. For example, it was okay if Remus raped him, as long as Severus was still willing to fuck him afterwards. It was okay if the Dursleys ignored him, if only Snape thought he was good. 

Harry didn't think that was the correct answer to Madam Pomfrey's question, so when she asked him how he felt, he just shrugged. 

Madam Pomfrey explained to him about physiological responses, and how certain touches can feel good, even if you don't want the touches--but Harry had figured that part out a long time ago. What had Snape said--about how he could make rape feel good, but he couldn't make it feel noble?

The real problem that Harry had now was that--when Severus had his cock buried deep inside Harry, or the other way around--that was the only time when Harry felt safe, and wanted, and worth something. He wasn't sure he could explain that feeling to Madam Pomfrey, and even if he could, he didn't like to imagine the look of pity she'd give him. So he didn't even try. But every time Pomfrey talked about physiological responses, Harry would nod and agree along. "That makes sense," he said, and looked away. 

Later on, alone in bed at night, Harry would try to form his feelings into words, but all he came up with was this: "I love him." Hermione or Madam Pomfrey would probably try to talk him out of it, tell him, 'you only think you love him,' but Harry was not interested in that. "I love him," Harry whispered into the dark silence of his four-poster. "That's all." Snape wasn't perfect, but Harry wasn't either. He'd hurt Harry, but Harry had hurt him back. "I love him," Harry whispered again, and rolled over and tried to fall asleep.

*

Christmas was rapidly approaching, and for the first time in his Hogwarts career, Harry was leaving for the break. Ron was going home to the Burrow and invited Harry to come with him. 

"Mum really wants you to come," Ron had said. "And I want you to come, too."

Harry tried to think of it as "leaving Hogwarts for Christmas" and not as "leaving Severus for Christmas." It was stupid, anyway--Harry hadn't spent time alone with him since October. But still, Harry didn't want to leave without saying goodbye, properly. And wishing him a happy Christmas. And giving him a gift.

And so, on the next to last night of term, Harry snuck out of Gryffindor tower with his Cloak and the map, and made his way down to Severus's rooms. He was nervous in a way that he couldn't help chiding himself for, and he may have knocked a little too insistently on Severus's door. But Severus opened the door all the same, looking grumpy at the apparently empty hall. Harry brushed past him and into his rooms.

Severus sighed and closed the door, and Harry took off his Cloak.

"You shouldn't be here," Severus said flatly, still facing the door.

"I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye," Harry said in a rush. 

Severus turned around but didn't look at him.

Harry held out a badly-wrapped package. "And I wanted to give you this." It was stupid, just a pocket Sneakoscope, but Harry wanted to give him something. Besides, Severus could probably do with one.

Severus took the package but made no move to open it. "Harry..."

Harry bit his lips. He was uncomfortably close to tears. He wanted to say something--anything--but he couldn't find his voice.

"You shouldn't be here," Severus repeated.

"I--couldn't. Not." Harry didn't even know what he was saying. "I mean--" but he didn't know what he meant. 

Finally, Severus looked at him. He looked--Harry wasn't sure how he looked. "Harry," he said. "You should leave."

But Harry was rooted to the spot. If things had been normal, then by now Severus would have had Harry naked on the hard stone floor, with his tongue in Harry's ear and his cock in Harry's arse. But that wasn't quite right, was it? Because it had been a long time since Severus had started anything. It had been Harry--Harry had to demand that Severus fuck him. Harry'd had to strip himself, strip Severus, suck Severus's cock, beg him to _please, please, just fuck me_. It had been that way since the start of term--since the summer before term. And the term before that, there had been nothing between them. In fact, the last time Severus had started anything with Harry had been before--Before Voldemort and the Death Eaters. 

"Don't you still want me?" Harry asked in a small voice.

Severus narrowed his eyes. "Have you given up on chasing the joys of group sex, then?"

Harry recoiled.

"Or have you just not found any willing participants in the boys' bathroom on the fourth floor?" Snape continued acidly.

"Y--you told me to go there!"

"Because I don't want what you want!"

"And what is it you want, Snape?!"

Severus advanced on him so quickly that Harry stumbled back, but Snape had already grabbed Harry's robes. "I want you to _leave_ ," Severus shook Harry slightly, and Harry could only gasp and hang on to Severus's arms. And then Severus let go and backed up a step, breathing raggedly. "I want you to leave," he said again, eerily calm.

Harry felt badly rattled. He was wound up; he didn't know if he wanted to fuck or fight or just run. But he had to know--"Do you love me, Severus?"

Severus scowled. "What has that got to do with anything?"

"I--" Harry choked on his own words. He wanted to say _I love you_ ; he wanted to dare Severus to say it back. But most of all, he wanted it to be true. It was easy to believe it in the dark confines of his four-poster, but when faced with the man himself, Harry was a lot less sure. Especially when he was here in this room--the same room where, when Harry was thirteen, Severus had tried to teach him the difference between sex and rape. Harry hadn't understood the lesson at the time, but now he knew that Severus had been deliberately obtuse. _I can at least teach you the difference between sex and love_ , Severus had said, but Harry was even less sure of that.

So Harry revised what he wanted to say into a thing that he was sure was true: "I want to have sex with you." He regretted saying it almost immediately when he saw the look on Severus's face. 

"Get out," Severus said coldly. 

"Wh--bu--you--that's not fair!" It wasn't fair, not at all--not when Severus had introduced Harry to sex in the first place. Harry probably would not have had sex at all if not for Severus. After all, Ron hadn't. Neville hadn't. Seamus and Dean hadn't.

But Severus had already grabbed Harry by the arms and was shoving him towards the door. "Potter, how has your entire life not yet taught you that LIFE ISN'T FAIR?!"

Harry barely registered the question before he met with Snape's door closing in his face. 

Enraged, Harry wanted to blast down the door. Instead, he knocked. And knocked. And tried every password he'd ever known to get into Snape's rooms. And kicked the door. And knocked again. And knocked. His rage started to blossom into hopelessness, which he shoved aside. He held on to his anger. He knocked again.

Severus eventually opened the door--barely--and said, "Stop it."

"You didn't even open my gift," Harry said. His voice didn't sound angry to his own ears.

Snape made an odd noise, then shut the door again. Harry was about to knock once again when the door opened and Severus thrust the package out into the corridor. Harry took it, and the door closed again.

Harry looked at the badly-wrapped package in his hands, devastated.

*

That night, Harry dreamed that he was having sex with Snape, riding his cock wantonly, but he slowly realised that Snape wouldn't look at him. "Snape," Harry said, as he arched his back and rolled his hips, but Severus's eyes stayed shut, and Harry tried to reach for him, but Voldemort's hand was buried in his hair and held him in place, and Harry whimpered, "Severus, please," because he knew that if Severus would just _look_ at him, Voldemort would go away, but Severus just clutched at Harry's hips and thrust up without opening his eyes, and Voldemort laughed and kissed Harry's forehead in mock tenderness. "I'm the only one who will never leave you," Voldemort said, and he pushed Harry forward and lined up and pushed in--

And Harry woke up with a gasp, and it took him a while to realise that he didn't really hurt, deep inside his arse--it was just the remains of the dream still clinging to him.

But he didn't go back to sleep that night. And so it was that he was awake just before dawn, when McGonagall came for Ron. Harry saw Fred and George waiting outside the door. "There's been an accident," she said to Ron. Shell-shocked, Ron left with McGonagall and his brothers. He returned twenty minutes later, and started haphazardly throwing dirty socks into his trunk. Harry watched him for long seconds before he asked quietly, "What's going on?"

Ron jumped and turned to look at Harry. His eyes were red. "Sorry I woke you," Ron mumbled.

"You didn't," Harry said. "What's wrong?"

Ron worked his jaw for a bit, then said, "It's my dad. He's dead. He was murdered. We can't go to the Burrow--we're going to Headquarters. We have to leave now."

Harry felt his stomach turn to lead. Mr Weasley--dead? "Shit," he said. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Ron said, as he rifled through the drawer of his nightstand. Harry watched him take his wand out of the drawer, then put the wand back, then take it out again. "I don't know," Ron said again. "Something about Azkaban, and there was an escape--" Ron threw his wand back in the drawer and pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. "I don't know," he said. "I just need to pack."

Harry stood up. "Let me help," he said, and picked up Ron's wand, and made sure his toothbrush was in his trunk and found a matching pair of socks for Ron to wear. Ron had thrown on an old pair of robes over his pyjamas, and Harry told him that was good enough. "I think you're ready."

"Thanks," Ron said, without looking Harry in the eye. And then he dragged his trunk to the door. 

And then it occurred to Harry that this was supposed to be Christmas break. If he couldn't go to the Burrow, then he'd be stuck at Hogwarts, and Ron would be at Headquarters--

Harry sat down heavily on his bed.

Ron leaned back in the door. "What are you waiting for? I told you we have to leave now!"

Harry blinked at him.

"Hurry!" Ron said.

Harry nearly fell over in his haste to comply.

*

The next morning, the headmaster called a faculty meeting where he informed them that Arthur Weasley had died unexpectedly the night before, and the Weasleys and Harry Potter would be missing class on this, the last day of term. 

Severus listened numbly. He was glad he would have a few weeks' break from Potter. If Potter came sniffing at his door again, Severus wasn't sure he'd have the willpower to turn him away again. 

After the meeting, Dumbledore asked Minerva and Severus to stay. He told them about the circumstances of Arthur's death: the Order had put an extra guard on the port to Azkaban, and last night, Arthur had been on duty. But there had been a break-out from Azkaban during the early-morning hours, and Arthur hadn't even had time to send out a Patronus. His body had been found a few hours before dawn with massive snake bites on his throat and chest. He must have bled out in a matter of minutes.

"Who escaped?" Severus asked, not caring about anyone except--

"...Bellatrix Lestrange--"

Severus interrupted. "Has anyone checked on the Black property? If Lestrange has not yet cast the Fidelius Charm--"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I asked Remus to check on it as soon as I heard. He already told me that he couldn't see the property."

"Remus-- _Lupin_?" Severus spluttered.

Minerva shot him a look which was somehow both bored and sanctimonious. "Of course Remus Lupin--hasn't enough time passed for you to let go of your petty schoolboy rivalry, Severus?"

Severus ignored her. " _Lupin_ , Headmaster? After--after _everything_?" How could he? How could Dumbledore still be using Lupin after what he'd done--

But Dumbledore just gave him a mild look, which left Severus feeling staggered. Severus swallowed and fell silent.

*

Severus made it through the day somehow. It was made better by the fact that Potter was already gone, and also the student body was rather subdued, knowing the reason all of the Weasleys were conspicuously absent. By the evening, the Hogwarts Express had departed with most of the students on board and the castle was largely empty. But before Severus had poured his nightcap, Poppy knocked on his door. Feeling discombobulated, he let her in.

"I'll be leaving soon, Severus, but I wanted to make sure you'll be fine here over the break," she said easily. 

"Yes," he said. "I'll be fine." His words felt stilted, and Poppy picked up on it. She frowned at him. 

"Potter came here last night," he said. Why did he say it? "He told me he wanted to have sex." What was he saying? "I sent him away." --There. That wasn't so bad, after all.

But Poppy still frowned at him. 

"I'm doing all I can to discourage him. He tried to give me a gift; I rejected it."

Poppy's frown deepened.

Severus waved his hands, horrified at his word choice. "When I say 'gift,' I wasn't--I mean, it was a gift. A package." He felt himself blushing. He wished he hadn't said anything. He was making everything worse.

"I understand, Severus," Poppy said. "Would you say this is progress?"

It was Severus's turn to frown. "Yes. I'm finally doing what's best for Harry," he said slowly.

"How was that the best thing for Harry?"

Exasperated, Severus replied, "Because for once in my life, I didn't rape him?"

Poppy eyed him, then said quietly, "I'm going to ask you a question, and I want your honest answer."

Severus didn't say anything.

"Have you ever had a sexual encounter that was completely consensual for all parties involved?"

"Yes, of course." How deviant did she think he was?

She nodded. "Now, do me a favour: Think about your first experience with consensual sex."

Severus remembered Lucius, in the seventh-year dormitories.

Poppy continued, "Think: how old were you at the time? How old was your partner? How soon was it after your experience with non-consensual sex?"

Severus found the last question unsettling. Avery's come hadn't yet dried the first time Lucius had had Severus. "It isn't anything to be ashamed about," Lucius had said, with two fingers already inside of Severus's bum. "I...quite like it."

"A common coping strategy for many victims is...to somewhat blur the line between consent and non-consent."

But that had not been the case with Lucius. "May I?" Lucius had asked every time. Severus had always nodded.

But then--

_\--It hurts, stop--_

_\--Shhhh, Severus, be still--it only hurts for a bit, I promise--_

_That hadn't been true in Severus's experience, and he tried to get away, but Lucius held him firm--_

_\--Relax--if it hurts, it's because you're not relaxing--relax and--uuunnggghh--it feels good--_

_And Severus clenched his teeth and tried to relax, even as Lucius pulled him all the way down on his lap--_

_Unnngh, Merlin, that's good--good--good boy--_

_Severus smiled and ignored the stray tears, and Lucius held still and panted for a moment, then pulled at Severus's hips--_

_Now, Sev, when it stops hurting, you move until you find where it feels good--_

But the terrible burning had barely started to subside when Lucius pulled at his hips again, so Severus moved, and Lucius had grunted out another "good boy," so Severus kept moving in an awkward rhythm, gritting his teeth through the pain, and was almost jarred when he found his own prostate--Lucius chuckled and wrapped his big hand around Severus's soft cock--

"Severus?"

"NO!" Severus barked out, blinking at Poppy in front of him.

Had Lucius really been helping Severus? Or was he just helping himself?

"Breathe, Severus."

"No," Severus pleaded. He had given _Harry_ to Lucius. And Lucius had, in turn, given Harry to Avery. Assuming, of course, that Lucius had not collected a tidy sum from Avery--

Avery had--

"Breathe, Severus. Breathe for me."

Lucius had--

"Breathe out."

Severus did so, surprised when it helped with the tightness in his chest.

"Breathe in."

Severus did. "It's not right," he said.

Poppy looked at him. What did she see? He tried to clear his mind but--

(The third time Severus went to Lucius, everything a little easier. Severus, naked, face-down on the bed. Lucius, on top of him, _inside_ of him, pressing Severus down into the mattress. Suddenly, the door to the room opened, and Severus squeaked and hid his face. An unknown boy said, "Again, Lucius?" and all Lucius said was "Ungh, ungh, ungh" as he came inside Severus. "I don't know why you take them so young," the mystery boy said. "Wait," Lucius had panted. "I'll show you." Severus, too intimidated by the older boys to object to what had followed.)

\--but the task proved difficult.

"Keep breathing. What's not right?"

Severus breathed in. "What I let them do." He breathed out, then breathed in again, and looked at Poppy.

She looked back at him, disappointed. Like he'd got the wrong answer. He wanted to be upset, but instead he breathed out again. "I could have made them stop," he argued. He hadn't, though. He hadn't made them stop.

"Could you have?"

Severus shrugged, but didn't yield. "I could have asked for them to stop." He didn't even try, though. What did that say about him?

"What good would that have done?"

Severus shrank away from the question, focusing again on breathing. In, out. In, out.

"What good would that have done, Severus?"

In, out. He thought about it. "I could have tried."

"Would that have helped you?"

_\--Please--don't--_

_\--Shhh, just relax, you'll like it--_

Gerald Mulciber had been the mystery boy's name. Severus found out later, after he'd been killed in a raid. He recognised the face in the _Prophet_. Gerald's older brother was Gawain Mulciber, who had been there on the night of the Dark Lord's return. Gawain didn't look much like Gerald, but as Gawain had taken Harry, Severus couldn't help but notice certain other similarities.

Severus opened his eyes, focused on Poppy. In, out. In, out. "I could have tried," he repeated. He didn't try, though. It had felt good; he hadn't really wanted it to stop. He'd come every time--Lucius made sure of it.

She looked at him. "I think you probably did try, Severus. I think you must have tried your hardest. I think that, in the end, the only thing left for you to do was to...blur the lines of consent."

Severus shook his head. What useless twaddle. ...But, perhaps-- "Is that what Potter is doing now?"

Poppy smiled sadly. "Severus, we're talking about you."

Severus didn't reply. She was wrong. She wanted to rewrite history--his history--and how could she judge? She hadn't there. Severus had been there, and he'd _liked_ it.

*

Christmas break was awful. 

For his whole life, Harry had known what it meant to have dead parents. However, he did not have any experience with losing a parent. There was a funeral, there were tears, and then there were shouting matches and even a brief fistfight between Fred and Ron. Harry supposed it could have been because they were all tired of being cooped up in Neville's house, but somehow it all felt worse than that.

Harry found a cloak closet off the main entrance hall where, if he sat in the back corner behind all of the heavy cloaks, he could barely hear what the voices were yelling at each other. Nobody seemed to miss him, so when someone else crawled into the closet and pushed their way back into the opposite corner, Harry stopped breathing.

"Harry?" Ron's voice seemed to come from far away, clear on the other side of all the cloaks. "Are you really in here?"

Harry breathed out. "Yeah."

Ron seemed to settle in to his corner and didn't say anything for a while, and then in an oddly-pitched voice, he said, "I used to be jealous of you, for being an orphan."

"I used to be jealous of you, for having such a big family."

Ron snorted, and it sounded wet. "Wanker," he said.

"Pillock," Harry replied.

They didn't say anything else or even move until they were called to dinner, minutes or hours later. That time was by far the best of Harry's Christmas break.


	17. Coming back and leaving again

The students had just returned to Hogwarts from their Christmas holiday when Narcissa paid Severus a visit. He hadn't seen her since the time Harry had barged into his rooms and stripped down naked, demanding to be fucked. (That night when everything had gone so disastrously wrong. The boy had surprised Severus several times that night, not least when he had turned down the offer of being with Lucius again--this after pestering Severus repeatedly about his desire to be with multiple men. And after Narcissa had left, Harry and Severus had sex that last devastating time.)

So Narcissa's presence wasn't welcome, exactly, but even in the midst of all of Severus's recent personal crises, he couldn't help but be aware that there was a megalomaniacal madman on the loose, who was intent on killing Harry Potter, and it was a bit disconcerting to be clueless about said madman's current plans or whereabouts.

"Narcissa," he greeted, as he set down his tumbler of Firewhiskey and regarded the woman standing in his Floo. 

"Severus," she said, as she carelessly brushed off her sleeves as if there had been soot there. "Are you alone this time?" she asked lightly.

"Quite," he said, without inflection.

She narrowed her eyes at him, and he stared back at her, determined to give her nothing. 

She blinked first, but Severus understood that it was not the same as a victory. "I need to speak to Headmaster Dumbledore, on a subject that is rather important, I'm afraid," she said. "Are you in a fit state to escort me, or shall I see myself to his office?"

"You require an escort for the Floo?"

"Perhaps I shall see myself to his office, if you are so drunk that you think that the Headmaster's Floo is open to just anyone."

"Narcissa--" Severus began, and stopped himself. He pinched his nose and gave himself over to the indignity of it all. " _Accio Polyjuice_ ," he muttered, and reached out to catch the vial that flew into his hand. 

Narcissa smiled at him. "This is why you will always be a useful ally, Severus--to anyone who is so lucky as to be secure in your loyalties."

"'Secure in my loyalties'? That would be a heady group, I'm sure."

"Indeed. I can only think of one member."

Severus frowned at her, but she didn't clarify. His frown turning into a scowl, he turned and left her in his sitting room. He needed an ingredient, and he hoped he could find it in the Potions classroom down the corridor; otherwise he'd be forced to visit the Slytherin common room, which would probably not be empty at this hour, and he didn't want to have to think of an excuse.

Luckily, he found a single hair on one of the student desks in the classroom. He added it to the Polyjuice and watched as it turned into a murky yellow. He returned to his rooms and handed the vial to Narcissa.

She looked at the potion for a moment before she said, "I suppose there's no point in asking who this is."

"You suppose correctly."

She lifted the vial at him in a mock toast. "Cheers," she said, and drank the potion. And then Severus watched as she turned into Xavier Satterwhite.

What a great cosmic joke his life was.

Satterwhite was evidently in some discomfort and his robes were too short, but he pointed his wand at his midsection and said, " _Engorgio,_ " and his features relaxed. 

This baffled Severus. Did Narcissa just perform an Enlargement Charm on Xavier Satterwhite's _penis_?

Satterwhite looked at Severus and blushed. "Don't look at me like that, Severus--my underthings are just a bit too small for this body."

It would be funny, if Harry hadn't once sucked the cock that Narcissa was now housing in her own too-small underthings. Severus shook his head. "Your robes are too short," he muttered, and he--she--Narcissa charmed them to fit Satterwhite's body.

"Come," Severus said, and walked out of his rooms without seeing if Satterwhite--Narcissa--would follow.

The headmaster was polite as ever when Severus showed up in his office with Satterwhite in tow. 

"Mr Satterwhite," Dumbledore said. "And how can I help you this evening?"

Narcissa settled into an armchair and crossed Satterwhite's legs. "I am Narcissa Malfoy, Headmaster, and I bring news from the Dark Lord's inner circle which concerns you."

Dumbledore sat back and smiled. "What news, Mrs Malfoy?"

"The Dark Lord has put a bounty on your head, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, but his smile didn't falter. "How much?" he asked.

"Seven thousand galleons."

"So little? Well, I've known that my influence has been waning, but to have it put down in numbers is still disheartening, I admit."

Satterwhite shifted in his seat. "There are a few implied...perks...included in the bounty." 

Dumbledore looked at Severus, who felt the scowl on his own face. Dumbledore turned back to Satterwhite. "Have you come to collect the bounty, Mrs Malfoy?"

"Only if it would solve more problems than it would create, Headmaster."

"Indeed, it may. But--forgive me, could an old man beg for more time to put his affairs in order? It should take me no more than a month."

Narcissa raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Severus. Severus could only shrug back.

"Headmaster," Narcissa said slowly. "This is quite serious."

"Of that I have no doubt, madam. And I do have some questions--for example, does Lord Voldemort have designs on Hogwarts after my death?"

Narcissa nodded slowly. "He feels he has enough support on the Board of Governors so that he can essentially hand-select the new head."

"And thus influence the next generation."

"Precisely."

Dumbledore regarded Satterwhite for a long moment. "Are you trying to position yourself to be the new Head of Hogwarts, Mrs Malfoy?"

Satterwhite betrayed a small frown. "Headmaster...Dumbledore. My own son is safe, secreted away where no one will find him. But my friends' children, ones I have seen grow and flourish over the years--those children are still here. They will be here next year, and some of them the year after that." Narcissa paused and looked at the headmaster. "I do feel that I am the best option of the viable candidates."

Dumbledore nodded, and turned to walk to his fireplace. He fiddled with one of his little gadgets there, then turned back to face Satterwhite. "I propose the fifth of February, if you have no objection?" he said lightly.

Narcissa stood up. "None, so long as you manage to stay alive until then."

"I'll do my best," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Of course, if I should have an accident--choke on a sweet, get hit by the Knight Bus--is there any way that we can contact you?"

Satterwhite paused. "No," she said carefully. "Your usual methods of communication won't work--either because they are wholly lacking in discretion, or because of my current living arrangements."

Dumbledore hesitated. "Is it possible for you to pay Severus another visit next week?"

"It is possible."

"Excellent. Give us one week to work out a method of communication. During this week, I shall abstain from sweets, and we'll just have to hope that the Magical Transit Authority have not been lying about their safety record. After this week, I will most certainly resume my usual patterns and habits, and if my reckless behaviour with sherbet lemons leads to a situation that forces us to move up the timetable, we shall be able to contact you directly."

Narcissa left shortly thereafter, using Dumbledore's Floo. Severus would have liked to leave, too, as he had no desire to have the conversation with Dumbledore that he must certainly have now.

Dumbledore sat down heavily at his desk and put his head in his hands. Severus sat down opposite him. 

"It's too soon, Headmaster," Severus said quietly.

"Be that as it may," Dumbledore said, dropping his hands, "you and Harry must leave Hogwarts by the fourth of February."

Severus looked away.

"He has trusted you before, Severus, and he will learn to trust you again."

Severus ignored this. "Where would we even go? Do you have any idea where to begin to look?"

"I am convinced that the remaining Horcruxes are all in Great Britain."

Severus blinked. "Thank Merlin for that," he said flatly.

"Come back tomorrow evening, Severus, and I may have better news to give you."

Severus sighed and moved to leave, but Dumbledore called out to him before he reached the door. "Severus? Happy birthday."

Severus left without responding.

*

Harry had been back at Hogwarts for two days when Dumbledore called him in for a meeting. He dreaded what Dumbledore might have wanted to discuss, but in Harry's worst imagination, it wasn't as bad as what Dumbledore actually said.

Harry went back to Gryffindor tower in a daze. ( _Dumbledore--dying--the ring--Snape--Horcruxes--_ ) Ron and Hermione couldn't help but notice, and they asked him what was wrong in hushed tones.

Harry didn't know how to soften it. "...I'm leaving with Snape soon," he said. He thought he'd have so much more time--he hadn't thought things would be like this with Snape. "We're going to look for Horcruxes."

"I thought you didn't know where they were," Ron said.

"I don't."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other. "So...Dumbledore and Snape know where they are then?" Ron guessed.

"Not really, no."

"Harry," Hermione said, "how long will this take?"

It was the worst question. Harry felt tears prick his eyes; felt the corners of his mouth pulling down. He blinked and bit his lips. "Dumbledore," he began, and had to stop and clear his throat. "Dumbledore said maybe a few months, but Severus said that was 'extremely hopeful.' He said it probably would take years."

"What about school?" Hermione whispered, outraged.

Harry shrugged. "Dumbledore's dying. Hogwarts won't be safe, anyway."

Hermione looked stunned.

"What about _Snape_?" Ron asked.

"I don't think we'll be having much sex, if that's what you're worried about." And Harry couldn't hold back the tears any longer. He was fifteen years old. What the fuck was wrong with him, he shouldn't be _crying_ \--but all through the meeting, Snape wouldn't look at him, Snape wouldn't even take his present, Snape didn't even _care_ , and it was possible Harry said some of this out loud, because Ron and Hermione looked at him sadly. "He loved me," Harry said in a broken voice. "He said he loved me, but I ruined it, and now he--he--"

Hermione pulled Harry into a hug, and he found that he didn't hate it. 

"I guess it won't be any worse than living with the Dursleys," Harry said. "Except that...I don't know how long it will last."

He was uncomfortably hot. He didn't want to cry any more. But he really didn't want to go looking for bits of Voldemort's soul with Severus. ("I'm the only one who will never leave you," Voldemort had said. Or was that in a dream?)

Hermione patted Harry's hair, and he yanked away from her abruptly. 

"What?" she said.

Embarrassed, Harry tried to play it off. He touched his hair and looked away. "Nothing," he said. "Never mind."

Fortunately, Hermione and Ron weren't paying any attention to Harry at the moment. They seemed to be having an entirely silent conversation. 

"I'd have to tell Mum," Ron finally said aloud. "She wouldn't be happy, but she couldn't stop me."

"It's just so dangerous," Hermione said. "For both of our families, really."

"If Dumbledore's really dying," Ron said slowly, "it'll be plenty dangerous for everyone, anyway. Besides, my family will be fine at Longbottom Heights." Ron shrugged and looked away. "We're already a target, since..."

Hermione nodded unhappily.

"Oh," Ron said. "Oh no. Longbottom Heights has Muggle-repelling charms!"

Hermione sniffed and tightened her lips.

"But what will you do?" Ron asked. "Your parents won't be safe."

"But it's like you said, they won't be safe either way," Hermione said.

Harry had been waiting for any part of the conversation to make sense. It was a serious conversation, and both of them seemed upset about it, but why were they ignoring Harry's situation? Maybe it didn't matter that much to them.

"I think I'll just go up to bed," Harry said dully.

"Oh, Harry, don't you see?" Hermione said. "It's dangerous either way, so we might as well do it!"

Ron nodded emphatically.

Harry still had no idea what conversation he had interrupted. He gestured vaguely toward the dormitories. "Yeah...I'll just..." He could feel tears threatening again; he wanted to be alone.

"Oh!" Hermione said. "Don't you see? You--we--Ron and I--Harry, we could come with you. When you go to look for Horcruxes."

Her words didn't make sense, and Harry looked at her blankly.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "That is to say, if you wanted company. That way, it wouldn't be like with your aunt and uncle, because we'd be right there with you."

Harry blinked and looked at Ron, who was slowly turning a bright red. "Er, ah--" Ron spluttered. "We wouldn't be, er...chaperones--we thought--you said--unless you wanted a chaperone, in which case we'd tell Snape to bugger right off--"

"Wait," Harry said, because what they were saying was finally starting to have some meaning. "You--the two of you--want to come with me and Snape?"

Ron and Hermione both nodded.

A very different picture of Horcrux hunting bloomed in Harry's head. "I--I wouldn't be alone?" he asked, and was almost a little surprised to feel fresh tears on his cheeks. He wiped them absently.

Ron stood up and pulled him into a hug, and Hermione joined in. "None of us would be alone, mate," Ron said fiercely, and Harry felt Hermione nod.

When they broke the hug, Hermione said, "Okay?"

Harry said, "Okay." And he really believed it. "Maybe," he said, remembering something else Dumbledore had mentioned, "maybe you could help me with something now? Dumbledore said that a student might be better at solving a problem. They need a way for two people communicate secretly, even if they're far apart."

"How far apart?" Hermione asked.

"Like, different towns. And the faster the communication, the better."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I've actually been thinking about this, lately. Let me try something and I'll let you know."

*

During DADA class on Thursday, Snape told Harry to stay after class. Harry's stomach dropped to his toes, but he did as he was told. When the rest of the class had left, Snape barely looked at Harry, only told him to come back to the classroom at seven o'clock sharp.

That gave Harry entirely too many hours to worry about what Snape would do. Ron and Hermione asked what Snape wanted, of course, and probably noticed how upset Harry was when he told them that he _thought_ he had a detention.

Ron bristled. "We'll come with you, if you want."

That made Harry feel much better, and also more brave. "Thanks, Ron," he said, and meant it. "But I think I can handle it."

At seven o'clock, Harry arrived at the DADA classroom, and Snape immediately took him to the girls' bathroom on the second floor. By the time they arrived, Harry was almost completely on edge, and Snape gestured vaguely. "Well?" Snape demanded, as if it were the culmination of a long argument.

"Er..."

"The Chamber of Secrets! The headmaster said it was here, didn't he?"

"Did he?" Without meaning to, Harry looked behind Snape, at the tap that led to the Chamber. He shivered. "But..."

"Did you think we were going to find the Horcruxes just to collect them?" Snape sneered. "To keep them as curios and admire them?"

This stung, but Harry remembered. "I destroyed the diary with a Basilisk fang."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Very good, Potter. With a keen mind for details like that, you'll soon--"

"Stop it," Harry said fiercely. "Just stop it." He strode over to the correct sink, not wanting to walk too close to Severus, but trying not to show it. Snape took a step back as he passed, so perhaps the feeling was mutual.

Harry took a breath and leaned over to look at the decorative snake on the tap. He closed his eyes, then opened them again. "Open," he whispered, and the sink obliged.

Down in the Chamber, the skeleton of the Basilisk loomed large. Harry thought that it was surely bigger than the Basilisk itself had been. But while Snape busied himself at the skeleton's mouth, Harry was drawn over to the side, where there was a dark discolouration on the stone floor. Some of the stain was black ink, but a lot of it--more than Harry remembered--was deep brown. Blood. 

The boy who had bled there, who nearly died there--that boy was--so different to who Harry had become. That boy had picked himself up, dusted himself off, and accused Lucius Malfoy of a murderous plot.

That boy had deserved to live.

Harry was startled when Severus put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Harry?" Snape said, like he'd been saying it for a while.

Harry pointed dumbly at the stain. "I..."

Severus shuddered and pulled his hands back to himself. "Come, Potter."

But Harry couldn't just walk away. "I betrayed him."

"Who?"

"Him." Harry again pointed at the stain. "He knew what Lucius was. I let myself forget."

Severus tightened his lips. "That hardly makes you extraordinary. Lucius manages to fool everyone eventually." His voice was hard, his words clipped. Harry found it much more comforting than he probably should. "Come," Severus said again.

But Harry wasn't ready to leave yet. "Did he fool you?" he asked.

Severus looked at Harry for a long moment. "No," Snape said carefully. "I was just a fool." Then he turned around and walked away.

Harry wasn't sure if he should take those words as apology or an accusation. He supposed that it didn't matter; he sighed and followed Snape out of the Chamber.

*

Despite all of the preparations Severus had made, he couldn't quite believe that he and Harry would actually embark on the course that Dumbledore had set for them. He was convinced he would die before then, or Dumbledore would recover from the curse and carry out the mission instead, or perhaps there weren't any Horcruxes to begin with. Perhaps the Dark Lord would fall off a broom tomorrow, and that would be that. It was unlikely, but it was more likely than Severus destroying the Dark Lord's Horcruxes with Harry Potter while hiding from all of magical Britain. 

On the first of February, a Tuesday--

\--(Friday was the fourth, and the fourth was when the headmaster wanted Severus to leave with Harry--but a lot could happen in a week: Severus's heart could give out--he'd been under a lot of stress recently, after all--Poppy had been worried; or, someone might carelessly leave a banana peel on the top of a staircase and Potter might slip on it and fall to his tragic demise. Literally, anything could happen. Nothing in this life was certain--Severus was sure of it.)--

On Tuesday, the first of February, the headmaster summoned Severus into his office. When he arrived, Severus was disturbed to find Harry Potter already there.

"Severus," the headmaster greeted. "I'm glad you came. Harry has only just arrived. Have a seat. I trust you are well?"

Severus grunted, but sat down. Someday he would be in the mood to shock the headmaster by joining in his small talk. Someday, but probably not before Friday. 

Dumbledore looked between Severus and Harry, and Severus looked at the headmaster blandly while spending a lot of effort ignoring Harry. Through his peripheral vision, Severus could tell that Potter was doing a poor job ignoring him back. The boy kept sending sidelong glances his way. They probably would not have a good working relationship by Friday.

"I believe I have found another Horcrux."

Severus was so preoccupied with ignoring Potter that it took a few moments for the headmaster's words to register.

"Which one?" Potter asked.

"Ah," said Dumbledore, "I misspoke. What I believe I have found is the place where a Horcrux is hidden. I don't know which Horcrux might be hidden there."

Perhaps all of the Horcruxes were there. Perhaps the Dark Lord very carefully and deliberately split his soul into seven different pieces, and then hid all of the pieces together in one very safe hiding place. Perhaps the impossible quest would be over before it began.

Three hours later, Severus was just beginning to understand how naive that hope had been. He and Potter had gone along with Dumbledore into a watery cave that reeked of Dark Magic, and then Potter and Dumbledore had gone on in a small boat, not big enough for two adults, while Severus stayed back on the rocky shore, trying to keep his mind clear. There was nothing for him to do but wait, and try to ignore the oily feeling of the magicks that surrounded him. Even when the waters started churning, and Inferi began attacking, they were not attacking him. But finally, a column of fire sprang up in the distance, and moved slowly toward Severus. As the fire got closer, Severus could see that it was surrounded by hoards of angry Inferi. The fire was very nearly upon Severus before he realised that the boat was inside of it, with Potter and the headmaster onboard.

When the boat reached the shore, Potter helped out a very weak Dumbledore. "It's okay, sir," Potter said. "We're nearly there, nearly there." Dumbledore leaned heavily on the boy, and Severus moved to Dumbledore's other side and took his arm.

"Severus, my boy," Dumbledore said weakly, and smiled.

Filled with foreboding, Severus said, "Did you find the Horcrux?"

"Of course," Dumbledore said, and stumbled. Severus and Harry almost fell with him, but managed to pull him back up to his feet. "It was hardly any trouble at all," Dumbledore said.

Severus looked at Harry. Harry looked back with wide eyes and shook his head slowly and meaningfully.

Severus didn't know what it meant, so he ignored it. "Back to Hogwarts, then," he said.

"Hm," Dumbledore agreed.

They'd barely set foot in the castle (Severus was wondering if the house elves would help get Dumbledore back up to his office, or if they should stop off at the hospital wing first) when Dumbledore said, "Severus, you must summon Narcissa."

He hadn't let himself think that. But suddenly, he could almost feel the galleon in his pocket, the galleon that was one of a matching pair that Dumbledore had given him weeks before, to be used as a means of communication with Narcissa.

"Severus..."

He blinked. He'd stopped walking without noticing. "Yes, Headmaster?" he said, and started walking again.

But Dumbledore didn't follow. Instead, his legs gave out. "It's time, Severus," he whispered.

Severus's heart was hammering. Harry and Severus could only ease the headmaster onto the floor, and Severus looked at the old man for a moment. He pulled out the coin and looked at it. He looked up at Dumbledore, then at Harry. Did Harry know what the coin meant? Did he know Narcissa's role? 

"Harry," Severus rasped. "Collect your things. We must leave the castle now."

Harry's lip trembled and he looked at the headmaster. "Sir?" he said.

"Potter," Severus said. "There's no time. Things are going to happen and we _must not be present_. Collect your things and meet me in my rooms."

But Harry ignored him. The boy turned to the headmaster. "I won't let you down, sir. I--I'm sorry for--"

"Harry," Dumbledore said. "It is I who have let you down." He took a gasping breath. "Now go. Do as Severus says."

Harry nodded and ran off to the staircase. Severus watched him leave. 

"He loves you, Severus," Dumbledore said. "Don't be afraid to love him back."

Severus felt his chest tighten. He pulled up the coin and spelled it to read, "Hogwarts entrance hall--now." Then he tapped it once and felt it heat, and knew that Narcissa's galleon would be doing the same.

Without looking at Dumbledore, he said, "My 'love' ruins him." And then he walked away. He had much to do; he didn't have time to argue with a dying man.

He went to his quarters--not his for much longer, as it turned out. He started packing haphazardly--did he need to pack everything? Would he ever have the chance to return and collect whatever he left behind?

He picked up a bookend shaped like a coiled serpent. It had been a gift from a student, who had shown great promise in potions. Her name had been Derwent. Hadn't it? No--Dickerson. No. Savage. 

Without warning, the Floo flared and Narcissa entered. Severus could only blink at her. Her face was hard, and she quickly produced an invisibility cloak and pulled it over her shoulders. When only her head was visible, she said to Severus, "Is he still there?"

Severus nodded.

"Good," she said, and pulled the hood over her head and disappeared completely. And then his door opened and closed, seemingly by itself.

"Godspeed," Severus said, to the presumably empty room. He tossed the bookend back on to the shelf and went to retrieve the Basilisk fangs from a locked drawer in his study.

And then he went to get clean pants--and the key to his Gringotts vault--and a few vials of Dittany--his entire stock of Polyjuice--

There was a timid knock on his door. Severus grabbed a few more vials without really looking at them and dropped them in his bag, and then went to answer the door.

It was Potter, of course, though his arrival surprised Severus. First of all, because barely any time had passed since Potter had left the entrance hall. Secondly because Potter was there at all--it was starting to seem very likely that Severus was about to depart on a Horcrux-hunting mission with Harry Potter. 

But what surprised Severus the most was that Weasley and Miss Granger were with Potter. Miss Granger glared at Severus, but Weasley was very interested in the lintel. Each of them carried a bag.

The obvious implication was so ridiculous that Severus immediately dismissed it. Instead, he said slowly, "Potter, you can't expect a valet everywhere you go. You should pack more lightly."

Harry looked down at the bag hanging off his own shoulder, confused. Then he looked back at Severus. "I can carry my own bag, Snape."

Severus sighed. 

"We're coming with Harry," Weasley said firmly. He looked directly at Severus as he said it.

Well, of course they were. Dumbledore would certainly plan for such a thing, and he would certainly neglect to tell Severus about it. Resigned, Severus wordlessly stepped aside to let the group into his rooms. "Stay here," Severus told them before he went to gather up some of his toiletries. He shoved them into his bag and considered himself packed and ready.

Well, _packed_ , anyway.

He had just returned to his sitting room when Potter blurted, "The locket is fake."

Severus opened his mouth and closed it again.

"It's not a Horcrux, I mean. It is a real locket," Potter clarified.

Which didn't actually clarify anything for Severus. "You mean the Dark Lord didn't make it a Horcrux? He planted a false one, with all those protections around it?"

"No," Harry said. "There is a real Horcrux that is a locket. This isn't it." Harry held out a locket with a gaudy yellow jewel. 

"How do you know?" Severus asked as he took the locket. He shook it and held it to his ear. He had no idea what he was doing. He tucked the locket into his robes and looked at Potter, who still hadn't answered. The boy looked deeply uncomfortable. Severus closed his eyes and chided himself for his foolishness. Potter had gained intimate knowledge of the Dark Lord's most terrible and secret plots on the same night as his own gang rape and murder. Severus should have remembered; he happened to have been there that night. He happened to have been one of the rapists _and_ an accessory to the murder.

Was Severus _really_ about to go hunt down stray bits of the Dark Lord's soul, carefully hidden in unknown locations?--with Harry Potter?--because _Dumbledore_ thought it was a good idea?

Apparently, yes.

"Never mind," Severus said. "It changes nothing; we still must leave." He cleared his throat and spoke to Granger and Weasley. "We'll be taking the Floo. You two go first. Number nine, Privet Drive."

Potter choked. "What?" he said.

"Go," Severus commanded, and thankfully, Granger and Weasley did, disappearing in the green flames. Then Severus took hold of Harry with one hand, and the Floo powder in the other, and announced, "Number nine, Privet Drive." Then he stepped through the flames, dragging Harry with him, beginning the most misbegotten of all possible adventures, he was sure.


	18. Overcoming some obstacles

# PART IV: The Hunt

CHAPTER 18: Overcoming some obstacles

Harry hadn't been sure who lived at number nine, but if he had to guess which one of his neighbours' sitting rooms Snape was Flooing them to, he never would have guessed Mrs Figg's.

"Hullo, Harry," Mrs Figg said.

"Er--hi," Harry said.

"Mr Snape, you told me that you wouldn't be here until Friday. And who are these others?"

Ron and Hermione looked every bit as uncomfortable as Harry felt. He wondered if it was normal to enter your old babysitter's home through the fireplace. With your friends, who were magical. And your professor, who was your former lover. Harry kept his eyes on the carpet.

"I'm very sorry, Arabella, but circumstances have changed."

_Arabella_? Snape was on a first-name basis with _Mrs Figg_?

Mrs Figg paled. "Dumbledore?" she asked quietly.

Snape shook his head.

\--and Mrs Figg knew Dumbledore?--

"Hang on," Harry said. "Are you a witch?"

Mrs Figg huffed. "Squib," she said.

"You've been a Squib this whole time?" Harry asked. He noticed everyone giving him a funny look, but really, it was a lot to take in. "Why--why didn't you ever tell me?"

"I'm undercover."

"Oh," Harry said.

Mrs Figg turned back to Snape. "But you're still early. The Dursleys don't leave until Friday morning."

"Oh, I do apologise," Snape said nastily. "If only I had thought this through, I could have booked us at the Leaky. I'm sure that's a fine place for blood traitors, mudbloods, myself, and, of course, _Harry Potter_ \--now that _Dumbledore has been murdered by an agent of the Dark Lord!"_

"Don't call Hermione that!" Ron fired up.

"Origin slurs are hardly our main concern at the moment!" Snape hissed.

"They kind of are," Harry said, because even though he had no idea why they were at Mrs Figg's house, he did understand what they were running from and what they were fighting for.

But Snape just made a face at him and turned away.

So Harry ignored the weirdness of the situation and addressed Mrs Figg. "What's so important about Friday? Why does it matter if we're early?"

"Hm," Mrs Figg said. "I suppose it doesn't, really, only that I don't think your relatives will want to play host to so many."

"W--we're staying with the Dursleys?"

"Of course not," Snape cut in. "We're meant to be staying _without_ the Dursleys, _at_ the Dursleys'. I...encouraged them to take an extended vacation, and they're meant to leave Friday morning. They will be gone for two weeks, which should afford us the safest place I can think of for the frenzied part of the manhunt, until we can find different accommodations."

"Manhunt?" Ron asked.

"Dumbledore has been murdered, do you not understand that? Someone is going to take the blame, and it's safe to assume that that _someone_ is in this room right now."

Harry felt slightly sick. Dumbledore had made him promise to make him drink that potion. Maybe he _should_ be blamed for Dumbledore's murder.

"Then what will we do until Friday?" Ron asked.

Nobody said anything for a long time, or so it seemed to Harry.

Hermione finally said, "Professor Snape? Ron and I brought a tent that's big enough for all of us, if we could just find a place to pitch it. It hardly takes up any room at all."

Snape just looked at Hermione like she'd grown another head, but Mrs Figg said, "If all you need is floor space, you can pitch your tent in my sitting room."

"That would be perfect," Hermione said. And then, as Mrs Figg made to move a chair, Hermione said, "Actually, I think it can fit right here, without moving furniture. I can't stake it down, but I suppose there's no danger of it blowing away, so that's fine." And she pulled out the same tent that they had camped in for the Quidditch World Cup.

Harry looked at the tent and then looked at Ron with a question that he couldn't quite put to words. Ron understood because he shrugged a bit too casually and said, "After the World Cup, my dad's friend told him to keep the tent. When I told Mum that we were leaving Hogwarts with you, she wasn't happy, but she sent me the tent, 'just in case,' she said."

Harry nodded with his heart in his throat. It had been a very long day. He and Ron wordlessly went to help Hermione pitch the tent.

Harry would have thought that sleep would be impossible that night, as he was in a bunk with Ron, in a tent in Mrs Figg's house, and Dumbledore was dead, and Snape was in another room of the tent, and they hadn't even found a real Horcrux. But he and Ron played Exploding Snap wordlessly for hours, until they couldn't keep their eyes open any longer, and then they finally slept.

*

Severus was drinking tea with Arabella the next morning when she took delivery of the _Daily Prophet_. She opened up the paper and said, "Oh. Oh, dear." Severus didn't want to imagine the headline, or the contents of the article, but it was very hard for him to ignore Arabella's near-constant tutting. "Oh, that's terrible," she said. And then, "Oh, that can't be true!"

Severus sighed, and braced himself, but when she finished reading, all she did was sit back in her chair and shake her head. "May I?" Severus said, before he all but yanked the paper away from her.

_Dumbledore murdered at Hogwarts_

_Headmaster Albus Dumbledore of Hogwarts School was found murdered in the Great Hall on Tuesday night. Details of the scene were scarce, as there are no known witnesses to the murder. However, enough is known of Dumbledore's movements on the night in question to lead authorities to believe that Severus Snape is guilty of the murder._

_Authorities have been unable to locate Snape for questioning._

_At approximately 8.30 in the evening, Dumbledore was seen leaving the castle in the company of Snape and Harry Potter, the boy who lived. Their destination is unclear, but the_ Daily Prophet _have learned that Snape, 36, and Potter, 15, have been involved in a homosexual relationship since 1993. While such a relationship is not directly in violation of any school bylaws, it is possible that Headmaster Dumbledore wished to discourage the two from continuing their association._

_Snape was charged with Death Eater activity in late 1981, but was cleared of all charges after Headmaster Dumbledore testified on his behalf. Several members of the Wizengamot decried this decision, as there was sufficient evidence to convict Snape on all charges. There was speculation at the time that Dumbledore, a known homosexual himself, had found in Snape a man willing to trade favours for his freedom from Azkaban._

_Potter is famously an orphan who was raised by his Muggle relatives. As one ministry expert on childhood psychology told the prophet, "orphans are often starved for affection, and may seek it out in unhealthy ways." Such a child would be easy prey for an unscrupulous former Death Eater. Potter was only 13 when Snape commenced their relationship._

_It is unclear when Dumbledore discovered the relationship between professor and student, but he had no legal recourse to stop it. It is likely that Dumbledore wished to talk to Snape and Potter in neutral territory. Where they went is unknown, but two different witnesses report the trio Apparating back into Hogsmeade well after midnight._

_Dumbledore was found dead in the Hogwarts entrance hall at approximately three in the morning. One of the castle ghosts found him and immediately alerted Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School. McGonagall raised the alarm in the school and summoned Aurors. The Aurors on the scene found nothing amiss, except for the notable absence of Snape and Potter._

_One Auror, who wished to remain anonymous, commented that "the fact that the three left Hogwarts grounds on the night of the murder doesn't speak well to whatever they were up to." When asked to clarify, the Auror said bluntly, "I think Dumbledore wanted to make an arrangement, but Snape didn't want to share."_

_Two other students, known associates of Potter's, are also missing, but it is unclear if their absence is related._

It was salacious and damning and almost entirely true. He threw it in the fireplace and watched it burn, barely even aware of Arabella's protests.

*

Ron hadn't known what to expect when he decided to go along with Harry on a secret mission to destroy bits of You-Know-Who's soul, but he hadn't expected it to be so crushingly _boring_. Camping out in a little old lady's sitting room didn't seem very death-defying, although he did sustain many scratches from disgruntled Kneazles.

Moving into Harry's Muggle house was also not as exciting as he had thought. Instead, it was just...weird. Harry's bedroom was terrible. Ron tried not to show it on his face--after all, he could vividly remember the first time Harry had seen his own room, and how anxious Ron had been--he was keenly aware that the attic bedroom was the worst room in the Burrow, but he hadn't even moved into it until both Bill and Charlie moved out, and the twins moved into their old room, so Ron finally got a room of his own after having to share a room with Ginny for nine years. But Harry had looked at the room like it was the most brilliant thing he'd ever seen--and now that Ron was looking at Harry's room for the first time (well--the second time, really, but the first time it had been night, and Ron hadn't taken notice of much beyond the bars on the windows), Ron thought that Harry's appreciation for Ron's tiny attic room was probably sincere.

"I hate it here," Harry said.

"I can see why," Ron said, before he thought better of it.

But Harry just laughed.

For entertainment, the Muggles had a telly, and Ron was absolutely amazed with it, until he was suddenly bored with it. The journey from amazement to boredom took less than five minutes.

And then there was Snape. Snape absolutely forbade any of them from using magic. "You've got the Trace on you," he said. "If you so much as cast a _Lumos_ , you'll lead the Ministry right here, and the Dark Lord will follow soon after."

"But I thought Harry was safe here," Hermione said.

Snape narrowed her eyes at her. "Harry _is_ safe here. And we are all hidden here. Unless we _let them know we are here_ , in which case _we are no longer hidden_ , and I'm quite sure that Potter's protection does not extend to the rest of us. However, if you think I'm wrong, feel free to challenge my theory."

Hermione didn't seem happy, but she didn't say anything. Instead, Snape rounded on Ron and said, "I expect you will have the hardest time adjusting. You'd do best to surrender your wand so as to remove the temptation to cast."

Snape held out his hand, and Ron took a step back. "Why me?" he challenged.

"Because the rest of us have experience living as Muggles," Snape said. "Give it over."

"I won't," Ron said. There was no way he was giving up his wand, not with You-Know-Who out there, looking for all of them. He looked to Harry and Hermione for help. Hermione looked conflicted, but Harry just looked angry.

"He's not giving you his wand," Harry said. His voice sounded funny, brittle and hot and quiet.

"I will not trust my safety to _his_ temperance!"

"Yeah, well I don't trust your temper, either!" Ron said.

Snape scoffed. "Every breath you breathe, every word you speak, only proves further how much of a fool you are, Weasley. Give me your wand now."

"Stop it!" Harry cried, and rushed forward to shove Snape. To Ron's surprise, Snape stumbled back, but didn't look at Harry. Then Harry pushed Snape again, and Snape kept weirdly trying to ignore him. Ron looked at Hermione, who looked back at him.

"Severus!" Harry yelled. "Look at me!"

"Harry," Ron said quietly.

Harry shoved Snape one more time, then looked at Ron. "He won't look at me," Harry said, and Ron was embarrassed to see tears in Harry's eyes. "He shouldn't be a git to you, and he should LOOK AT ME!" Harry finished on a roar, and turned back to Snape.

"Harry," Ron said again, before Harry could hit Snape again. Snape's posture was odd, and something about it made Ron uncomfortable, made him want to grab Harry away, but that seemed like a bad idea. "It's okay," he said instead, and took a cautious step closer to Harry.

Harry shook his head. "Snape, I know you don't love me. It's fine that you don't want to fuck me anymore. But you shouldn't GET TO IGNORE ME!"

And then Snape exploded. He grabbed Harry by the shoulders and shook him. Unthinking, Ron sprang forward and tried to pry Snape's hands off Harry, but Snape didn't even seem to notice Ron's presence. "You know nothing!" Snape yelled at Harry. "You are every bit as stupid as he is, you stupid--you imbecilic--you--you--"

"OI!" Hermione yelled, and somehow this cut through to Snape, and he stopped shaking Harry. Harry let out a tiny sob, and Ron, not knowing what else to do, looked at Hermione. She had her wand fixed on Snape. "Let go of Harry," Hermione said coldly.

Snape did, immediately. Harry didn't move.

"Ron will not be giving you his wand, and I think the reasons should be obvious. You will have to trust us, and somehow you will have to get us to trust you. You are the adult--you need to start acting like it."

Snape huffed and stormed out of the room. Harry went to follow, but Hermione cut him off before he reached the door.

"Hermione," Harry said, "he didn't mean--"

"Harry," Hermione interrupted. "Don't let anyone ever treat you like that, ever."

"Better than ignoring me," Harry shot back.

"It's not," Ron said. But he remembered a lot of what Harry had told him over the years about his relatives. And standing in this room, with all its pictures of Harry's Muggle family, but no pictures of Harry himself--and just down the hall from the cupboard where Harry had been locked up for much of his childhood...Ron could sort of see what Harry meant.

*

Severus was glad that he'd fooled Harry so well. It was all to the good that the boy didn't know how hard Severus had to resist the urge to hold Harry down and fuck into him, even with his little friends watching. Maybe they could even join in--maybe Harry could fuck the Granger girl, and the Weasley boy could fuck Harry's mouth, while Severus, of course, fucked Harry's arse--

Severus recoiled from the entire notion. He couldn't keep lying to himself. He didn't even want to hold Harry down. What he actually wanted was so much worse, and so much more impossible. He closed his eyes and shut down that part of himself.

Horcruxes. He had to get rid of Horcruxes. And all he had was a fake Horcrux with a note signed by R.A.B. He pulled the note out again to read it.

_R.A.B._

The note was not dated, but it had probably been written between 1975 and 1981. R.A.B. was someone known to the Dark Lord. Rosalinde Bulstrode had been a supporter of the Dark Lord, if not one of the inner circle. But her husband _was_ part of the inner circle--perhaps there had been a domestic situation there, and Mrs Bulstrode retaliated? It didn't seem likely. The Bulstrodes married in 1974 or 1975, and by 1981 they had four children. None of this necessarily eliminated Rosalinde as a suspect, of course, but Severus guessed that she'd had other priorities than staging secret mutinies against despotic madmen.

So really, R.A.B. could only be one person. One very young, idealistic person. A likeable, buffoonish person. A person who became reserved for a few months before he disappeared without a trace in 1979.

A person who had lived in a house that was currently under the Fidelius Charm. 

Severus was pulling the galleon out of his pocket to contact Narcissa when there was a knock on the door. He stared at the door, uncomprehending, and then Granger let herself in, followed by Weasley and Harry. Severus drew himself up and sneered down at the girl.

"We need to lay some ground rules," the girl said.

Severus maintained his sneer. What was there to say?

"There will be no physical violence whatsoever," Granger continued firmly.

"Ah, but Potter enjoys it so," Severus said nastily. Potter turned an interesting shade and refused to raise his eyes from the floor. Granger took a step back and Weasley's ears turned bright red. Severus took a moment to enjoy landing the hit, and then Weasley spoke up.

"You don't need to be so fucking mean all the time, you know," he said heatedly.

"But I am," Severus countered. "Get used to it."

"We also won't tolerate emotional abuse," Granger said.

The girl was so pedantic. "Or _what_ Miss Granger?" Severus hissed. "You'll take points from Slytherin? You'll report me to the _headmaster_?"

"No," Granger said, and leaned in with narrowed eyes. "We'll leave."

Severus blinked at her. "How, exactly? You can't Floo, you can't Apparate--"

"We'll take the train," she said, and she was so fierce, so certain, that Severus felt his stomach sink. He looked at Harry, who still hadn't raised his eyes.

Granger continued, "You're supposed to be protecting us and guiding us, and if you can do neither, then we're better off without you. Harry knows what the Horcruxes are, and you don't seem to know where they are any more than we do, so if all you're going to do is bully Harry then we're all better off without you."

Harry glanced up, then. He met Severus's eyes for a moment, then looked away.

"You'd be dead within a fortnight," Severus said, without thinking. He'd already seen Harry die once before. He didn't want to be responsible for his death a second time.

"I think we could get by without you fine," Weasley said.

"Harry," Severus said quietly. Harry looked at him, looked at his chin, then shrugged.

Severus cleared his throat, and groped for the locket behind him. "Here," he said, stupidly. "Here. The locket. R.A.B. It's Regulus Black. He lived in a house, in London, it was his family's house, Bellatrix owns it now, and it's under the Fidelius."

He wanted to give the locket to Harry, but Granger was closer and she took it from him. "How do you know?" she said cautiously.

Severus looked at her. 

"I mean," she said, and paused. "How...how do we get the real Horcrux, then?"

"Narcissa," Harry said. He looked at Severus, and Severus nodded at him.

"Narcissa Malfoy?" Weasley asked.

"Regulus Black is Sirius Black's...dad?" Harry guessed.

"Brother," Severus said.

"And he's dead?" Harry asked.

Severus shrugged. "He disappeared. Probably shortly after he wrote this note."

"What's any of that have to do with Narcissa Malfoy?" Weasley asked again.

Thankfully, Harry explained the situation as he understood it, and his story was accurate enough that Severus didn't feel the need to add anything. Instead, he pulled the galleon out and spelled it to say "Can you meet," and sent it to Narcissa. It wasn't long before he felt the galleon heat with her response, which read "Tue 8" and then a string of numbers that Severus understood to be coordinates.

Tuesday. That gave Severus two days to plan, and two days to stay away from his companions, such as they were.

*

Unfortunately, it took only one day for Harry to reach his breaking point. On Monday, while Severus was locked away in Vernon and Petunia's bedroom reading quietly, he heard something break downstairs, and then arguing voices, and then screaming voices.

"IT'S MINE, HERMIONE!" That was Harry.

"IF YOU CAN'T BE TRUSTED WITH IT, THEN YOU DON'T DESERVE IT!"

" _TRUSTED_ WITH IT? IT'S _MINE!"_

Severus closed his book and made his way downstairs. He heard a scuffle and a thud and a "oomph," then Harry yelled again, "GET OUT OF IT, RON." 

Then Severus heard running, and he just reached the bottom of the stairs when Harry burst into the front hallway, clutching his Invisibility Cloak and reaching for the door. Severus didn't hesitate; he cast, " _Incarcerous. Silencio_." Tied up as he was, Harry's momentum made him fall into the door face-first, then slide down to the floor. He glared at Severus, even as his nose began to bleed and tears ran down his face. Weasley and Granger ran into the hallway in hot pursuit. "Anyone care to explain?" Severus asked in a bored voice.

"Fuck you, Snape," Weasley said, and bent down to help Harry. Granger, though, grabbed the Cloak away from Harry, who struggled mightily and managed to break through the Silencing Charm.

"AAAAAARGH," he screamed. "IT'S MINE IT'S MINE GIVE IT BACK IT'S _MINE_ \--" Severus performed the Silencing Charm again and Harry's screams abruptly cut off. The boy broke down into silent sobs.

"Hermione," Weasley said quietly.

"Well," the girl said snootily. "He's putting himself in danger." Still, she gave the Cloak back to Harry, who clutched onto as best he could from his bound position. Harry then rolled over and hid his face in the wall, but he couldn't hide the way his entire body shook with his sobs. "I'm sorry, Harry," Granger said softly.

Severus went back upstairs to fetch a Calming Draught, and brought it back down with him. " _Finite Incantatem_ ," he cast, then held out the Draught. "Here, Potter," he said. Harry drank it. Severus waited a few beats, then said, "Care to explain yourself?"

"No," Harry said. And then he immediately contradicted himself: "I hate it here. I _hate_ it here. I have to get out--I'll be fine, I have the Cloak. No one will see me, I'll be fine!" He looked at Severus, and Severus had to look away from the raw need. 

"Harry, it's too dangerous," Granger said.

But Severus remembered too well the summer before, and the state Harry had been in after four weeks in this house. Perhaps bringing the boy here had been a grave miscalculation. (There was a small part of him that thought there may be some very beneficial consequences to being here.) (That was the part of him that was a monster.)

"Harry," Severus said, and was careful to look at the boy. He kept his face as blank as possible. "If you go, how long will you be gone?"

"A--u--until supper?" Harry stuttered.

Severus nodded. "Go," he said.

"But--" Granger began, but Harry was already out the door. Granger rounded on Severus. "You're not in charge."

Severus snorted and started to go back upstairs, but then Granger said, "I only want what's best for him."

Severus turned right back around and marched up to the girl. "Let me remind you of Harry's recent history in this house, because you seem to have forgot. Not even half a year ago, both of you--both of you!--wrote to me, begging me to save Harry from this house. When he arrived at Hogwarts, he wasted no time in offering his body to me, just on the chance that I wouldn't send him back here. Now we are back here, and he needs an outlet. _I_ am trying to give him that outlet, so that he doesn't offer himself to me again, because I can't promise that I WON'T TAKE WHAT HE OFFERS!" By the end of the speech, he was spitting on the girl, but he didn't care. He turned around and fairly ran up the stairs. 

*

Ron fully understood that Hermione was rarely wrong. So when she did things like she did this afternoon, he hated what she was doing, even when a part of him knew that she had a point. So he was glad when Harry came back to the house, safe and sound, before they ate. The three of them had sandwiches in the kitchen, with Snape still upstairs--as they had been doing since they got here. But when they all finished eating, Hermione announced that they needed to have a house meeting. Ron groaned and sat back in his chair, and couldn't help but notice that Harry did the same.

"Herm- _iiiiii_ -one," Ron pleaded.

"It's not for us, so much as it is for Professor Snape," Hermione said. 

"He's not our professor anymore," Ron pointed out.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Regardless, we need to work together, or we need to split apart."

"Herm- _i_ -one," Harry said.

"I know it's uncomfortable, but we're not going to be effective in the hunt for Horcruxes as long as we're all fighting each other. And isn't that the goal? To bring down You-Know-Who?"

Hermione could make it all sound so reasonable, was the problem. Ron knew it wouldn't be that easy, though. He looked at Harry, who said, "Fine."

"Fine," Hermione repeated. "Let's go, then."

"Now?" Ron asked.

"Yes, now," Hermione said, and grabbed Ron's wrist and beckoned Harry. "No time like the present."

And so they marched up the stairs, Hermione practically dragging Ron and Harry reluctantly following. "This will help--you'll see," Hermione said.

Hermione took them right up to the door to Snape's room--Harry's aunt's and uncle's room, really, and knocked on the door. Snape opened it cautiously and said, "Yes?"

"We need a house meeting," Hermione said firmly. "Do you want to meet in your room or somewhere else?"

Snape glared at her and closed the door in her face, but Hermione just knocked again. And then knocked again. Behind Ron, Harry snorted. Hermione shot a glare at Harry and raised her fist to knock again when Snape opened the door. "The downstairs sitting room will be fine," he said smoothly, and walked around them all and led the way down the stairs.

"Well, okay then," Hermione said, and dragged Ron back down the stairs. Harry trudged down behind them very reluctantly. Snape sat in a chair by the fireplace, and Ron and Hermione sat at opposite ends of the sofa, with Harry sat between them.

Hermione said, "I think we should all start by telling everybody what name we would prefer to be called by. For example, I prefer to be called 'Hermione' by Ron and Harry, but I'd prefer it if you would call me 'Granger.' Not 'Miss Granger,' please."

There was an odd silence at this, and then Hermione nudged Harry. Harry just said, "Harry," and glared at Snape when he did it. Then Hermione nudged Harry again, and Harry turned his glare at her, but she gestured at Ron. Harry made to nudge Ron, but Ron leaned away and said, "Ron." Would it be weird for Snape to call him "Ron"? Or "Weasley" or "Mr Weasley"? "Ron," he repeated, more firmly.

Then they all looked at Snape, who looked like he'd just drank spoiled milk. "Snape," he eventually said.

"I'm going to call you 'Severus,'" Harry said.

"And I will call you 'Potter,'" Snape shot back.

Harry made a sound of protest, but Hermione interrupted. "This is why we need a meeting," she said reasonably. "Harry, if Snape prefers to be called 'Snape,' then we have to respect that."

Ron shifted uncomfortably, and Harry did the same as he mumbled something.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Hermione said.

Harry said, "I just think of him as 'Severus,' that's all." He looked at Snape and shrugged. "I think I've earned the right," he said, and sat up straighter.

Hermione sighed, as if they were all missing the point. "This is about respecting people's boundaries, Harry."

"Hah!" Harry said. "That's great. That's great, Hermione. Severus, can you say anything about boundaries?"

There was a short but terribly awkward silence. And then Snape said, "Harry may call me Severus."

"Hm," Harry said, victorious.

"Hm," Hermione said, disapproving. And then she said, "Harry, Ron, and Snape."

Then she nudged Harry, who groaned, but dutifully said, "Hermione, Ron, and Severus." Then Hermione nudged Harry again, and Ron was glad that he wasn't sitting next to her. But then Harry nudged Ron hard.

Ron glared at him, but he still did what Hermione wanted. "Hermione, Harry, and Snape," he said.

They all looked at Snape, who gritted out, "Granger, Harry, and Ron."

Hermione looked delighted. "Good!" she said. "Now let's talk about magic. The three of us are not allowed to use it, but as I understand it, the Trace isn't really able to detect magic that we perform ourselves. It actually just detects any magic that's performed in our presence."

"That's true," Snape said, and Ron frowned. That would mean that...if he'd done magic at the Burrow, he could have blamed it on his parents?

"But that means that you shouldn't do magic around us, either," Hermione continued. 

"I haven't," Snape said.

"You did, though, just this afternoon, on Harry," Hermione said, and Ron remembered. "And if anyone were tracking him..."

Snape paled. "His enemies can't find him here," he said.

"But as you pointed out so helpfully, they can probably find _us_."

Snape blinked, then sat up straighter. "I--was in error. I won't make that mistake again."

"Good," Hermione said again. "Now we need to talk about where we're going to stay. I know that we're going to be at Privet Drive for two weeks, but I think it's unrealistic to think that we'll find all of the Horcruxes by then. Where are we going to stay after this?"

"Wherever we can find," Snape said, and Ron looked at him.

"You don't have a plan?" he asked incredulously.

"I have a plan," Snape said silkily. "It's to _find_ somewhere and stay there." They all looked at him, and he sighed as if they were stupid. "There's a spell to find empty houses in an area. It's useful for wizards who don't mind living as Muggles for a while--which is why most Death Eaters don't know of it. When we leave here, we'll go to another neighbourhood and search for a house whose owners are on vacation, and we'll stay there as long as we can."

That sounded like...a pretty good plan to Ron. Better than living in the tent, which had been his and Hermione's only plan.

"How will we travel?" Hermione asked. "As you pointed out, we can't Apparate, we can't Floo--"

"We still have our feet, don't we?" Snape said. "We'll walk."

"Okay, then," Hermione said. "Okay. We could also take a train if we wanted to go farther."

Snape sort of nodded. He really just dipped his head at Hermione. "All Muggle transportation is acceptable," he said, and he sounded almost pleased. Weird.

Hermione continued on as if everything was normal though. "So, this brings us to Horcruxes, then. You believe that Narcissa Malfoy can help you find the locket--is there any way we can contact her?"

"I already have," Snape said.

Ron said, "You _have_?" This was news to him. How did he contact her so quickly?

Snape looked at him, which unsettled Ron slightly. "I'm going to meet her tomorrow to discuss a way forward."

"How did you contact her?" Ron said, trying to keep looking at Snape.

Much to Ron's relief, Snape looked away at that. "I'd rather not say."

"Oh," Hermione said, like she'd figured out a problem in class. "Those coins that I made for Dumbledore. Those were for you and Narcissa?"

Snape looked surprised at that, and Ron couldn't help his smirk. But then Snape's face evened out and he said, "What coins?"

Ron and Harry looked at each other, but Hermione was still in explanation mode. "I made some fake galleons and used a Protean Charm so that if you manipulated one, the other was charmed to match it. The Protean Charm works no matter how far apart the coins are, and they just look like galleons, so there's nothing suspicious about carrying one around in your pocket."

Snape slowly pulled a golden coin out of his pocket and examined it. "You...made this, Miss Granger?"

"It's Granger, no 'Miss.' And yes."

Snape's mouth opened, and then he said, "My apologies. Granger." He cleared his throat. "It may be beneficial if you made more, so that we could all have one. In case we're ever separated."

Ron and Harry looked at each other again, then pulled plain-looking sickles out of their pockets. Likewise, Hermione pulled out hers. "I made these separately," she explained. "So they're...on a different frequency, kind of."

Snape got quiet.

"If...if you want," Hermione said, "I can make a sickle for you, too, so that the four of us can communicate."

"Hermione," Ron said quietly, and put the sickle back in his pocket.

Hermione looked at Ron and shrugged, as if she didn't like it either, but what could she do? Ron shrugged back.

"That would be...acceptable," Snape said slowly.

"Good," Hermione said. "Good. Now, if Narcissa can find the locket, then that leaves us with three Horcruxes: the cup, the diadem, and the snake."

Ron tensed up at the mention of the snake. He didn't want to think about it--didn't want to think about his dad's ribs breaking under the snake's jaws--

Harry nudged him. Ron shook his head and clasped his hands together tightly in his lap, and tried to focus on breathing.

"I suggest we worry about one thing at a time," Snape was saying. "We know something about the locket--we'll pursue it until we find it and destroy it, and then we can worry about the others."

"As for destroying the Horcruxes, Harry told us that you have Basilisk fangs?"

Snape nodded.

"Good," Hermione said. Ron thought it was funny that she kept saying that. "Well, that's all I wanted to talk about, unless someone else would like to add anything?"

Ron was relieved that no one said anything, but Hermione seemed disappointed. "Okay," she said, which was definitely a step down from _good_. "Okay, then, you'll meet with Narcissa alone and let us know what she said?"

"Of course," Snape said easily.

Hermione was not thrown by the obvious lie. "And I'll work to make you a sickle so we can communicate. Very good." And she stood up and waited for Ron and Harry to do the same before she led them out of the sitting room. 

When they reached the hall, Ron said fervently, "Hermione, you're a force of nature."

"Thanks," she said, even though she looked very embarrassed.


	19. The locket

At precisely five minutes before eight o'clock the following evening, Severus Apparated to the coordinates Narcissa had sent. He found himself in an alley near a very busy street, presumably in London. He tucked himself into a shadow and waited. 

It wasn't long before an elegantly dressed woman walked down the alleyway, doing very little to conceal the loud clicking of her heels. It was Narcissa.

"I have three minutes," she said. "What do you need?"

For all that Severus had thought about what he needed from Narcissa, he hadn't thought of an opening line. He struggled for a moment, then said, "You still have access to the Black house?"

"Naturally," she replied, looking bored.

"There--there may be something in that house that could be of use to me."

Narcissa smiled at him. It looked deadly. Severus remained focused on his Occlumency.

"You think I will help you," she finally said.

"There may be an object there that I can use to bring down the Dark Lord," he said baldly.

"I'm sure there are enough dark objects in that house to kill many people many times over--but Him?"

"It's a locket."

Narcissa studied him, but Severus suspected that she'd heard of stranger things. "A cursed locket?" she asked.

"After a fashion," Severus said. "The Dark Lord must not know, must not see it; he must know nothing of it."

"Certainly, Severus. Tell me, old friend--this locket that can bring down the Dark Lord--how dangerous is it to myself and others?"

"Not at all."

"Of course. Can you provide me with a description--perhaps tell me where in the house this locket may be located?"

Severus blinked. The enormity of the favour he was asking settled a bit between them. He said, "The last person who had it was Regulus Black."

Narcissa raised her eyebrows. She had loved Regulus; they all had.

"It killed him," she guessed.

Severus didn't say anything.

She sighed. "And yet you say this must be done."

Severus nodded slowly.

They looked at each other. "Don't contact me again," Narcissa eventually said. "I'll let you know if I find anything."

Without another word, she turned around and walked out of the alley, the _click, click, click_ of her heels seeming to echo a long time after she'd left.

*

It was nearly three weeks before Severus heard from Narcissa again. The wait was boring, for all that Severus spent much of it convinced that she would never find the locket, and therefore they could never destroy the Dark Lord.

Meanwhile, Granger provided him with a charmed sickle that he could use to communicate with his underage companions. The creation of the coin involved an awkward journey on the Knight Bus with Granger, Polyjuice, and Harry's Invisibility Cloak. Severus insisted that they get far away from Harry and Privet Drive so that Granger could cast the necessary charms in isolation. It would have been easier if he could have done the charm work himself, but thankfully Granger did not point this out.

And then his pathetic group of revolutionary bandits left Privet Drive six days before the Dursleys were set to return. Severus decided to make the move to ease some of the tension radiating off Harry. Still, he didn't want to go far in case they needed to flee to the protection of the blood wards, so all he did was use the cold dead of night to walk a block over, where he cast _Revelio Vacans._ The spell showed nothing, so he walked over another block where he cast again, and a house three doors down lit up with a pale yellow light. The house looked remarkably similar to number four Privet Drive. Except this was number eight Sylvan Way. Severus cast another charm to find that the owners were in Tunisia and planned to be gone a full month. 

He went back to collect the others and ushered them to number eight Sylvan Way. When they walked inside and realised that the house was not just similar to Privet Drive but identical, Severus had wanted to leave and find some other place. But Harry pushed past all of them and went to a small door under the staircase. He opened the door and laughed. Severus walked over and found nothing more than a games cupboard--shelves stacked with Chinese chequers and Cluedo and backgammon and chess.

"It's perfect," Harry said. "Let's stay here."

Severus shrugged and went upstairs to claim the same bedroom he'd had at Privet Drive. This one, he was pleased to find, was decorated with far fewer flowers. He settled in for the wait.

When his galleon finally warmed in his pocket, it read "Fri 8" and was followed by another string of coordinates. Deeply relieved, he left his room and went to find the others. He found them in the kitchen playing Yacht. They all turned to look at him, and he felt intensely uncomfortable. He cleared his throat and said, "Narcissa has contacted me. I will meet with her tomorrow."

"Alone?" Granger asked.

"Yes."

"Does she have it?" Ron asked.

"I don't know."

"Will you tell us what you find out?" Harry asked.

"Maybe."

The three children looked at each other, then Ron shrugged and picked up the dice. "What time are you meeting her?" he asked as he rolled them.

"Eight o'clock."

Ron rolled the dice again. Hermione asked, "Are you taking any special precautions?"

"Yes," he said, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice.

Ron rolled again and wrote something on his paper. "Be careful around her," Harry said. "She's a liar."

"We're all liars," Severus said. "But why do you say that?"

Harry shrugged. "She acted like she didn't know where Lucius and Draco were. But she knew all along, didn't she?" Harry didn't quite look at him, and Severus found himself remembering things he'd rather forget.

"Fair point," he said quietly. He left before they said anything else.

*

The next day, Severus again Apparated to the meeting point five minutes early, and again found himself in a cold dark alley. Narcissa came along shortly--impeccably dressed once again--and said, "Did you bring Polyjuice?"

"Of course," Severus said, because he had.

Narcissa held out a brown hair. "Here. Use it and take me out to supper."

"Who is it?" he asked as he pulled out his flask and added the hair.

"Wormtail," Narcissa said carelessly, as she looked down the alley.

"Where is he?"

Narcissa smiled at him. "Resting comfortably, in an inconspicuous location. I'll modify his memory later."

And so Severus found himself disguised as Peter Pettigrew in one of the nicest restaurants in Greater London, in the company of Narcissa Malfoy. 

"Before I forget," Narcissa said after they'd been seated, "I have a message for you."

"Oh?"

"Yes--from a former acquaintance of ours who is regrettably no longer with us. Before he passed, he asked me to tell you that love has never ruined anything."

Severus's mood soured considerably. "Not many people are foolish enough to mistake twisted perversion for love."

"Oh, agreed. But I told him that I would tell you."

"And so you have."

"And so I have."

"Dead men should never get the privilege of the last word."

Narcissa laughed at that, just as the waiter came to take their orders for aperitifs. Severus just ordered the same as Narcissa. After the waiter left, Narcissa spoke about the wine list at great length, and Severus nodded along.

They had ordered food by the time Narcissa finally said, "But you'd rather discuss jewelry, I'm sure."

"I'm sure," Severus said drily.

Narcissa's lips quirked into a brief frown, and then she said, "Peter, I have seen many dark objects in my life."

"I'm sure you have."

"This one is...something more."

"Then you found it?"

Narcissa nodded once.

"Did you bring it?"

"I did. It's a curious thing, if it's a weapon."

Severus held himself very still.

Narcissa seemed to want to say more, but was interrupted by the arrival of their food.

Severus shook himself and checked the time. He took a surreptitious sip from his flask, then tucked into his food. Narcissa kept up a steady monologue about the quality of the food and bemoaned how she rarely had time to eat out anymore. Severus simply ate the food, which he could barely taste. He had no idea what he'd ordered. He kept his mind blank, blank, blank.

After their plates had been removed, Narcissa said, "This trinket, which you want from me--I'm hoping you'll tell me something about it."

Severus raised an eyebrow.

Narcissa looked at him, right into his soul, and asked, "Is it, by chance, unique?"

Severus blinked at her, trying to keep his mind blank, while trying to discern her motives. He had to know if she knew--

"I believe your husband once had something similar," he said.

"Did he, now? That is interesting. Interesting that both my husband and dear, sweet Regulus both had such...dangerous objects."

Severus felt as if any movement as minor as a facial tic would be the equivalent of telling Narcissa the entire truth. He forced himself to breathe normally and kept his expression neutral. "It is curious," he said.

"Is it possible that any other supporters of our Lord have other such trinkets?" she asked innocently.

"I wouldn't know," Severus said honestly. His mouth was suddenly dry. He took a sip of water.

"I only say this because my sister has been known to boast."

"Really."

"Oh, indeed," Narcissa said with a tinkling laugh. "And you know that she and her husband lost all of their property when they were sent away."

"She seems to have no place to hide a trinket," Severus said carefully.

Narcissa smiled broadly. "Oh, she still has one. A very safe place."

Severus heard what she wasn't saying. He did his best to smile back, but this news was, at best, a double-edged sword. What good was it to know the location of a Horcrux if it was unreachable?

Narcissa settled the bill and they were already outside the restaurant when she said, "Oh, silly me, look at what I've forgotten." And she pulled a small box out of her bag and gave it to Severus. She leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Take care of it, darling." And then she Apparated away.

Severus immediately Apparated back to Sylvan Way. Number eight was dark and it made him uneasy. Did he really have a bit of the Dark Lord's soul in his pocket?

He went inside and had just put one foot on the stairs when the room was suddenly awash with light, and people were rushing towards him, carrying what looked like maces and broadswords. Severus cried out and fell back on the stairs, hitting his head and fumbling his wand.

"Don't move!" a voice ordered roughly.

"Weasley?" he gasped. Severus got his bearings. The people were Harry, Ron, and Granger. Harry and Granger were wearing cricket helmets, and Ron was wearing--a gorilla head? Harry and Granger had bats to go with the helmets, but Ron had--a tennis racquet? Severus rubbed his eyes, but the scene remained unchanged.

"He said don't move!" Harry said. "What are you doing here?"

It took Severus until precisely this moment to realise that he still looked like Wormtail. No wonder he'd dropped his wand. "It's Severus," he groaned. "I'm under Polyjuice."

"Prove it," Granger said.

"I once told you that the only thing you could do for Polyjuice was wait."

"Then we wait," Ron said firmly.

"Can we talk about the locket until then?" Severus asked.

"What locket?" Harry asked, and Severus had to smile.

"Here," he said, and reached for his pocket, only to get a kick to the shins.

"Ah-ah!" Harry said. "Keep your hands where we can see them."

Severus gingerly laid his throbbing head back on the stairs and groaned. He would be far more impressed with their security measures if they weren't so damned uncomfortable. "The locket," he said, for lack of anything better to do. "Narcissa gave it to me. I haven't even looked at it yet, so I don't know if it's the real one--but from what she told me, she was convinced. And, importantly, she told me--" he felt the Polyjuice wearing off and groaned again. "Merlin's tits, that hurts," he said.

But the three Musketeers didn't lower their weapons, such as they were. "Why were you gone so long?" Harry asked. "It's been nearly two hours!"

"Narcissa insisted on supper."

"Why didn't you answer your coin?" Harry demanded.

Severus frowned. "I didn't need the coin." He'd left it in an outer pocket of his cloak--he reached for it, only to get kicked in the shins again.

"Stop! What are you doing?" Harry yelled.

"I'm _trying_ to get the blasted sickle out of my pocket!"

But Harry wouldn't let him. Instead, Harry got the sickle out of Severus's pocket himself. He looked at it, made a disgusted noise, and tossed it to Severus. A message on it read _R U OK?_

"Huh," Severus said, and looked up to see Harry glaring at him.

Weasley cleared his throat and said, "I feel the need to point out that those coins are for _communication_." Severus was just glad he'd removed the gorilla mask; the situation didn't need to be any more surreal.

"Well?" Granger demanded. "Let's see the locket, then!"

Severus moved to protect his shins, then pulled the small box out of an inner pocket. He gave it to Granger, who opened it delicately and pulled out a large silver locket decorated with an ornate script _S_. She shuddered and held it out to Harry.

Harry froze when he saw it. "That's it," he said woodenly.

"I'd just as soon destroy it tonight," Severus said. "Unless one of you wanted to carry that around with you?"

Harry backed up and sat down heavily on the floor, leaning against the wall. His eyes were closed and he was breathing in barely controlled gasps. Severus looked away.

"Are the basilisk fangs in your room?" Ron asked.

"Yes--yes, I'll get them," Severus said, and fetched them as quickly as he could.

But try as they may, they couldn't destroy the locket. They ended up in the kitchen, sitting at the table with the locket in the centre, surrounded by three broken fangs. They had given up--they didn't want to waste any more fangs.

"Why isn't it working?" Granger asked, as if it were simply a puzzle to be solved. No one answered her. "How did Dumbledore destroy the ring?" she asked.

"With the Sword of Gryffindor," Severus said tiredly. They'd been over this. "Which--again--only worked because of the basilisk venom."

"And Harry, how did you destroy the diary?"

Harry had his head buried in his arms on the table. Without moving, he answered, "With a fang, just like what we're doing now."

"Was the diary open?" Ron asked.

Harry raised his head. "I--don't remember. Maybe?"

They spent a fruitless thirty minutes trying to open the locket before Severus gave up. "I believe the only solution is to carry it with us until we solve this."

"Yeah," Harry said, and buried his head again. "I figured."

*

Harry hated the locket.

Harry _hated_ the locket.

Severus insisted that someone be wearing it at all times, just in case they had to clear out quickly--and Harry certainly didn't volunteer to go first, but it didn't matter. Even without the locket, he felt Voldemort petting his head every time he closed his eyes.

Sleep was difficult, if not impossible. He had been rooming with Ron in the bedroom that had been Dudley's on Privet Drive, but Harry started having nightmares again, and his moaning and thrashing had woken up Ron two nights in a row. On the third night, Ron had the locket around his neck, and Harry waited until he fell asleep and quietly tip-toed into the room that had been his. It was much nicer in this house--there were no locks on the door and the mattress was much less lumpy and the blankets more fluffy--but when Harry woke up from a nightmare, it took him long minutes to figure out that the dark room was not the one at Privet Drive.

On the fourth night, it was his turn to wear the locket. He didn't go into the bedroom at all. Instead stayed up all night in the sitting room, tugging at his hair and thinking about how his body and soul were both tainted, and how everyone must be able to tell by looking at him, and how he was unloveable.

Severus found him there early the next day. "Harry?" he said quietly, squinting in the early morning light.

"Yeah," Harry said.

"Couldn't sleep?"

Harry shrugged, and Severus studied him. Then Severus said, "I believe it is my turn to wear the locket."

Harry couldn't even feel relief at that, because he didn't want to touch the locket, even to get it off of him. _I will always be a part of you_ , Voldemort whispered.

Harry startled when he felt cool fingers at his neck. Severus was lifting the locket off him, and Harry felt his stomach roil. The moment the locket was off him, Harry ran into the kitchen and heaved into the sink. Acid burned his throat, and his stomach kept heaving, long after the heaving produced anything.

When he finally stopped, Severus gave him a cool flannel.

"Don't wear the locket again," Severus said.

Harry rinsed out his mouth and rinsed out the flannel. He didn't really have anything to say to that. He was too weak--his soul too tainted--it was obvious to everyone that he wasn't good enough.

"Harry..." Severus said.

Harry closed his eyes. Again, he felt Voldemort's fingers in his hair. "You're good enough for me, Harry," Voldemort whispered.

"Harry," Severus said again.

"It's fine," Harry said, opening his eyes. "I'm fine."

*

Ron hated the locket. When he wore it, he felt like his dad would still be alive if he had been a better son, and even now he was little more than a disappointment to his mother. He knew Hermione would never love him because she'd always love Harry, and he knew he was a bad friend to Harry because he didn't think that Harry deserved Hermione's love. When his turn with the locket was up, he had given it to Harry and immediately felt better.

His dad had loved him, and he'd loved his dad. His mum worried about him and he wished he could write her a letter, at least. And Hermione might not ever love him the way he loved her, but she would always be Hermione. And that would have to be good enough, because he loved her so dearly.

As for Harry, Ron still worried about him. After one night with the locket, Harry looked absolutely awful. He wouldn't talk at all--Ron found him on the bed in his Bizarro-world bedroom, staring at the ceiling. Not knowing what else to do, he went to get Hermione and brought her into Harry's room.

"We have to destroy that locket," Hermione said.

Ron rolled his eyes.

"I admit that I haven't had any ideas," she said. "But I have been thinking about what Snape said--about Bellatrix's vault in Gringotts?"

Ron had been thinking about it, too. "Yeah, we've got two problems: how to open the locket and how to break into Gringotts. Between you and me, I hope that breaking into Gringotts is the harder problem."

They looked at Harry, who hadn't moved. Hermione said, "How do you get into your vault at Gringotts?"

Harry still didn't say anything, so Ron said, "My family just has a key. We show the Goblins the key, they take us to the vault--it's kind of a maze, but they know where they're going--and then we open it with our key. Bill says that the high-security vaults are different, though."

"So...does a Weasley have to open the Weasley vault?"

"I don't know," Ron admitted.

They were quiet for a few minutes, and then Harry said, "Hagrid did mine the first time." His voice was raspy and he cleared his throat. "He took me to my vault. He had the key, though, and I guess I was with him." 

They fell quiet again, and Harry spoke up. "Sorry, that was stupid--I guess that means that if we take Bellatrix with us _and_ have her key, then we can get into her vault."

"Is that all we have to do?" Ron said. "I'll fetch the key. Hermione, you fetch Bellatrix."

Hermione snorted, "Sure, Ron. No problem." Then she said, "Wait. Harry, were you _conscious_ when Hagrid took you to your vault?"

Ron turned to look at Hermione, and her face was the picture of earnestness. And then Harry started giggling. Ron couldn't help it; he giggled too. He could picture it so clearly: Himself, proudly presenting a key to the Goblins. Hermione, dragging an unconscious Bellatrix by an ankle.

Ron said, "I would just tell those Goblins, 'Bellatrix Lestrange wishes to make a withdrawal!'"

Harry said in an officious tone, "Everything here seems to be in order."

Hermione, giggling herself, reached out to touch Harry's shoulder. He only flinched a little bit, but Hermione must have noticed because she pulled her hand back and stopped giggling.

"That locket is evil," she said in a low voice.

"I'm too weak for it," Harry said.

"What?" Ron asked.

"I'm too weak. Severus said that I shouldn't wear it anymore."

"He said you're too weak?" Hermione demanded.

"No, he didn't _say_ that. But it's true."

Ron didn't know what to say about that. Maybe he was too weak for it, too.

Harry said, "Even...even when I'm not wearing it, I can still feel his hand in my hair. Voldemort's."

And suddenly, something very odd happened. Ron could feel it, even if he couldn't descibe it--he flinched hugely-- _something was wrong_.

Hermione looked at him, startled. "What was that?" she asked. He wondered if she felt it, too--it was like a silent clanging. An invisible searchlight. Something very sharp that he couldn't quite reach.

Hermione pulled out her wand, and Ron did the same.

Harry rolled off the bed. "What's going on?" he whispered.

There was a loud _crack_ downstairs, and then another, and another. The three of them ran out to the staircase as they heard shouts and bangs.

" _Stupefy!_ " Snape screamed. His voice came from the kitchen. " _Sectumsempra!_ "

They ran towards the kitchen, but there was a large man blocking their way--Ron barely registered that he wore a Death Eater mask--and Harry was already casting--

" _Expelliarmus! Incarcerous!_ " Harry snarled. He snatched the man's wand out of the air and ran toward the kitchen. Ron and Hermione ran after him. 

There were two other Death Eaters in the kitchen. The one closest to them was bleeding heavily from his left arm, and both of them had their wands pointed at the counter. Ron assumed that Snape was on the other side of the counter.

" _Expelli--_ " Harry tried again, but the bleeding Death Eater shouted, " _Protego!_ "

" _Stupefy!_ " Ron yelled, just as Hermione did the same, and the Death Eater went down.

" _Crucio!_ " Snape yelled, and the other Death Eater fell over and writhed and screamed.

"Stop it, Severus!" Harry yelled, but Snape kept his wand pointed at the Death Eater. "STOP IT!" Harry screamed, and marched over to Snape and shoved him, hard. The Death Eater stopped writhing. 

Ron cast _Incarcerous_ at the man, all the same.

"We have to leave," Hermione said.

"But what about them?" Ron asked. "Can we just leave them here?"

"No," Snape said.

Shaking, Harry walked over to the Death Eater that he'd saved from the Cruciatus.

"Harry Potter," the Death Eater rasped. "Is that you? Bend over, pull down your pants--let me check."

Harry fell back on his arse and scrambled away, and Ron felt like he'd been punched in the gut. It was Snape who recovered first, unluckily for the Death Eater. He marched over to the man and kicked him ruthlessly, then fell on him with brutal punches, then slammed his head into the floor. Ron was too stunned to do more than watch, but Hermione cast _Impedimentia_ , and Snape fell back from the man, panting.

"We have to leave," she repeated. "Can you modify their memories?"

"I'd rather kill them," Snape said, and Ron shivered, not sure he disagreed.

"What would you do with the bodies? How would you explain their disappearance?" Hermione said, her voice hard. Ron shivered again. "We have to hurry," Hermione said. "Obliviate them, now. _Finite_ ," she cast, cancelling the Impediment Jinx on Snape.

Snape stood up and pointed his wand at the battered man at his feet. Ron wondered for a moment what he would cast, but then Snape said, " _Obliviate_." He did the same to the man who'd been stunned.

The man in the hall was still awake, just bound and disarmed. Hermione said, "Wait--Snape, do you have Veritaserum?"

Snape blinked at her like he'd never heard of it, then said, "Yes. Upstairs."

Ron went and fetched Snape's bag, and Snape dug out a vial of clear potion. He gave two drops to the man on the floor and said, "Are there more of you coming?"

The man said, "No, it was just us."

"How did you find us?" Hermione asked.

"You spoke the Taboo."

"Taboo?" Ron said. "What's the Taboo?"

But Ron knew it before the man said, "The Dark Lord's name."

Snape looked thunderous, but stood up. He Stunned the man, then Obliviated him, then said, "We have to leave."

Ron went back upstairs and threw all his stuff into his rucksack and was ready to go within minutes. He met everyone else downstairs.

When they were all there, Snape grabbed them all, told them to hang on, and Disapparated. It was Ron's first time and it was very, very uncomfortable. He was nearly sick when they landed, and Hermione and Harry didn't look much better than he felt. But Snape just let go of them and said, "Follow me. Hurry."

They found themselves on a busy street on a dreary late morning. "Where are we going?" Hermione asked.

"Tube station, up ahead," Snape said, and Ron didn't know what that was, but he didn't feel like asking. He was glad he didn't when they got to a set of stairs in the sidewalk that went down into a great concrete pit. Inside of the pit, there were a lot of people and a _train_.

"Muggles are _mad_ ," Ron said fervently.

Snape bought them all tickets, but his hands were shaking and Hermione helped him feed his "money" into the "machine" (it was just paper, and they were putting it into a shiny box) and then the box spat out their tickets. Ron was so overwhelmed by this point that he just followed along as he had to walk through a metal whirligig with three spinning arms, but the spinning arms didn't like him at first (for a moment, he thought the Muggles had caught him out as a wizard and he looked at Hermione in a panic), but then Hermione flapped the ticket around somehow and the whirligig let him through.

And then they got on the train, but it didn't have compartments and it barely had seats, but it did have a lot of metal poles, and Hermione grabbed on to one and told him to do the same. "Hang on tight," she whispered, and he was glad she did, because even though he squeezed the pole as tight as he could, he still nearly fell over when the train started moving. The train went deeper into the pit and suddenly it was very dark.

His dad would have _loved_ this.

"Hermione," he moaned.

"Sh," she whispered. "Just close your eyes. I'll tell you when you can look."

The train lurched and swayed and then slowed and stopped, and Hermione said, "Not yet." And it happened again and again, and Ron lost count of how many times the train stopped and started again. He just kept his eyes squeezed shut. "Hermione," he whispered. "How deep is this pit?"

Hermione touched his arm, but stopped when the train slowed down again.

"We're getting off here," Snape said.

And so they did, but they used the doors on the other side of the train, and Ron stumbled along and tried to look like a Muggle. There was another whirligig but it let him right through--this gave him some confidence that he was passing well. And then there were more stairs, up this time, and they came up through another sidewalk on a dreary late morning, but in a completely different place to where they started. There were a lot more trees here and the buildings looked a lot friendlier. Ron leaned over and put his hands on his knees, but Snape was already walking.

"We should have changed trains," Hermione said quietly as they followed Snape, "but I guess this will be fine."

They walked for nearly an hour when Snape escorted them into a quiet building filled with books and told them to wait for him. They all sat nervously at a table for what felt like forever when Snape came back and told them he'd found a place. He led them to house and let them in and said, "We can only stay here a week."

They all stood in the front hall for a few moments--listening, Ron supposed.

Then Snape rounded on Harry with a sudden fierceness. "You nearly killed us all."

Harry stepped back, and Ron said, "Oi!"

"The rest of us don't dare speak His name, but Harry Potter thinks he knows best!"

"Snape," Hermione said. "The locket--"

"Oh, yes, I'm sure the locket is what made him so reckless and foolhardy, because he was never that way before!"

"And I'm sure the locket is what's making you such a pompous arse, because _you_ were never that way before!" Harry yelled back.

Snape bared his teeth, and Hermione said, "Okay, that's--"

"I didn't do it on purpose!" Harry interrupted, his voice breaking. "I was actually just explaining why I'm so useless!"

"Oh, do tell. We'll compare notes."

"Snape--" Hermione said, but Ron spoke over her. "Shut it, Snape. He's the fucking Chosen One, he is."

Harry guffawed. Ron wasn't even sure what a guffaw was, but Harry did it. "Yeah," Harry said sarcastically, "I'm contributing a lot. Irreplaceable, I am. Without me, which one of you would have summoned a Death Eater squad to our secret hideout?"

"Harry, that's not--" Hermione said, but Ron was starting to get angry at Harry. "You whinging little twat--there's a fucking prophecy about how you have power the rest of us don't have, and you stand there and act like you're not _necessary_?"

"The prophecy doesn't _mean_ anything, Ron! Except that I'm going to die at the hands of Vol--"

"Harry!" Hermione said, but quicker than Ron had thought possible, Snape shot forward and wrapped his hands around Harry's throat. "Don't," Snape said in his most dangerous voice. "And I'll ask you to remember that one thing you _have_ failed at--repeatedly--is dying at the hands of the Dark Lord." Snape let him go, and Harry coughed.

"It's not a great skill set," Harry rasped, still coughing.

"OKAY!" Hermione yelled, her voice shrill. "WE ALL NEED TO CALM DOWN. LET'S FIND ROOMS AND GO TO OUR CORNERS AND MEET AGAIN IN AN HOUR."

"Why are you yelling?" Ron said, rubbing his ears.

"OH MY GOD," Hermione said, and grabbed Ron and Harry by the wrists and dragged them into the house. "YOU ARE UNBELIEVABLE."

"Hermione--"

"DO NOT TALK RIGHT NOW." Hermione dragged them through the house, up the stairs, looking into doorways, and the first bedroom she found, she actually shoved Ron into. "THIS IS YOUR ROOM," she said.

"Do you still have to yell?"

"I'M NOT TAKING ANY CHANCES," she said, and marched off with Harry.

Ron flopped back on the full-size bed, and a minute later, Hermione was back. "YOU AND HARRY HAVE TO SHARE," she said, and shoved Harry into the room.

Ron scooted over on the bed. Harry flopped down next to him. Neither of them spoke, and Ron might have fallen asleep at some point, but then Hermione barged back in the room. "Time for a house meeting," she said, and Harry sat up and rubbed his face.

"Does she scare you, a little bit?" Harry asked, his voice thick.

"No, mate. She scares me a lot," Ron said. "Let's go before she starts yelling again."

*

Severus's nerves were jangling. He didn't want to wait for an hour, only to be rewarded by attending a meeting.

He should have killed the Death Eaters. Dolohov. Carrow. And, of course, Mulciber.

He found the sitting room, which was filled with furniture designed to be admired, not used. He sat on the sofa and it was every bit as uncomfortable as it looked.

He bitterly regretted not killing Mulciber, at least. What would he have done with the body? He would have castrated it, then fucking _nailed_ it to a Muggle billboard. Then pissed on it, for good measure.

_Harry_. Harry was somewhere in this house, right now, and how could Severus protect him if the idiot insisted on throwing around the Dark Lord's name? _You've not exactly done a bang-up job protecting him in the past_ , a voice in his head told him. _Maybe you should cut off your own prick--nail yourself to a Muggle billboard._

Severus tried to shut down the voice--tried to Occlude--but it just laughed at him. He reached for the locket around his neck.

_Oh, Severus,_ the voice said, as Severus wrapped his hand around the cold metal. _You can't separate yourself from the truth so easily_.

Severus yanked the locket over his head, and may have made an undignified noise as he did so. His breathing became easier--he hadn't noticed he'd been struggling--and he was able to Occlude.

And so Severus spent the hour, until Granger reappeared with Weasley and Harry in tow. Weasley and Harry each took an armchair across from Severus, while Granger remained standing. Harry's eyes immediately went to the locket, on the floor by the sofa, but then he pointedly ignored it.

"First item on the agenda," Granger started. "What happened on Sylvan Way was an accident, and there's no use assigning blame, and I'm sure Harry won't make that mistake again. Right Harry?"

"Right," Harry said quickly, and Severus snorted.

Granger moved on. "Second item on the agenda: do we want to stay here for as long as we can, or relocate in case we've been followed?"

This met with an uncomfortable silence. Then Severus said in his most patronising voice, "What do you think we should do?"

Granger ignored his tone. "I think we can stay here at least a day, then reassess."

"Good idea," Harry said, just as Ron said, "Let's do that." Severus snorted again.

Granger nodded, satisfied. "Good. Now I think we need to work on a plan in case something like that happens again. I like the idea of taking trains, but next time I think we should change trains at least twice." She paused, as if waiting for an objection. Then she said, "Let's talk about Apparition. Does the Trace pick that up?"

"Yes," Severus said. "But we'd already used so much magic that I thought it was worth the risk."

"Hm," Hermione said. "That's probably true. But I think that if we have time to travel using non-magical means, then we should."

"Yes, as we've already discussed," Severus bit out.

"Good," Hermione said. "Now let's talk about Gringotts."

Severus sniffed and Ron scratched his chin.

Granger said, "Snape, do you have a Gringotts vault?"

"Naturally," he said.

"Have you ever got in without a key? Have you ever been able to send someone else to make a withdrawal?"

"No. And no."

"Bill has," Weasley said suddenly, and he turned bright red. "Sorry," he said, "I just remembered. Bill once said something about how he sometimes makes withdrawals for clients."

"But he works for Gringotts," Severus said slowly. "Correct?"

"Yeah," Weasley said.

Severus wiped the corners of his mouth. "The main branch? In Diagon Alley?"

"Yeah," Weasley said. "He just came back from Egypt last summer."

Severus asked, "Does he like his job?"

"Er--what?"

"Would he be willing to make a withdrawal for us?"

"Oh," Weasley said, and laughed nervously. "You're saying--does he like his job--I get it. Yeah, he likes his job, but if the Goblins caught him stealing, I don't think that he would need to worry about getting sacked so much as...I dunno--getting stuffed in a vault somewhere and left to starve?"

"It's the same fate that would befall all of us, were we caught. The question is, would your brother help us?"

Weasley looked away, then back again. "He...might."

Weasley's enthusiasm at the prospect wasn't inspiring.

"Can we get a Goblin to help us?" Granger asked.

"And turn on their own?" Severus asked. "Not likely."

"Does the Imperius Curse work on Goblins?" Hermione asked.

"The Imperius Curse works on anything with a brain," Severus said.

"That's right," Weasley said. "In Moody's class, it worked on that spider."

"But--" Harry said. "It--"

"It didn't work so well on Harry," Granger said.

Severus looked at them. "What?" he asked.

"Harry can break through the Imperius Curse," Granger said.

_Well of course he could_ , Severus thought. "Let's assume that Goblins are more like us and spiders, and less like Harry Potter," Severus said.

They fell silent. "Well," Granger said, "there's one more issue I'd like to discuss. Snape, I had an idea I needed to talk to you about last night, but your door had an Imperturbable Charm on it. I couldn't even knock."

Severus didn't react. Of course his door had an Imperturbable Charm on it. He wasn't going to discuss it--not with Harry there. Even though he was sure that Harry already knew about the Imperturbable Charm on his door. So instead he said, "What was your idea?"

Hermione waved her hand. "Just about Goblins and what magic they may be susceptible to--but that's not the point. You had an Imperturbable Charm on your door!"

Severus didn't move. He didn't look at Harry. 

"Snape," Hermione said, "it's magic. We agreed you wouldn't do magic."

"It's a mild charm," Severus said. "It wouldn't be enough to set off the Trace."

This didn't appease Granger. "But what if we needed you? What if it was an emergency?"

"Again, it was a mild one," Severus said, annoyed. "If you desperately needed me, you could break through, I assure you."

"But it's just such an unneccesary risk!" Granger said. 

Severus didn't know what to say to get Granger to let it go. "I sleep better knowing it's there," he said.

Harry huffed, and Granger said, "But--if it was an emergency--"

"You could contact me with the sickle, if you had to," Severus said, pitching his voice so that it would be the final word.

Granger didn't take the hint. "But you don't need to ward your door!" she said.

Severus didn't have anything more to say about it. He felt his face colour, and tried to lock down his emotions.

"It's for me, Hermione," Harry finally said, looking directly at Severus.

"What?" Granger said.

"He's got to keep me out, doesn't he?"

Granger looked scandalised. "But I thought you were through with him!"

Severus snorted.

"No," Harry said. "He's through with me." Harry stood up and held his arms out. "You think I'm special? You think I can help you on this stupid mission? Maybe I can, if the Goblins would want to fuck me in exchange for access to their vaults! They can all fuck me--two, three at a time--hey--nothing new!--that's all I'm good for!--but HE'S lost interest!"

It was a horrifying glimpse of how Harry felt about the end of their sexual encounters. Severus said, "Harry..."

"You made me like this, you know? You-you-you turned me into a person who--I thought two blokes fucking me at once was normal! I was thirteen, Snape! You SOLD me--you turned me into a whore and made me think it was just some game! But you know the worst part? You always made me feel special. How fucked up is that? You could do anything to me--anything, as long as you smiled at me and called me a _good boy_. And I still don't know--I don't know anything!--were you doing me a favour when you fucked me right after Remus raped me? How was it that you _tied me up_ and _gave me to Lucius Malfoy_ and made me believe it was an _apology_ ? And why, why, why didn't you stop Moody?! Did you just listen at the door the whole time? That lasted for hours, Snape! You could have stopped him at any time! Did you forget that you had a wand? I thought it would never end, and I kept thinking that maybe you were getting help--that maybe you would burst in and stop it all sometime BEFORE he finished wiping his SHIT all over my body--before he got tired of shoving his fucking LEG up my ARSE--but you didn't! That fucking nightmare only ended when Moody was finished thinking up of new things that should never be done to anybody, ever!--and what did you do at the end of all that, Snape? You solved it all by wiping my memory! And then fucking me like it had never happened!" An odd sound came out of his throat, and he stopped and panted.

"Actually," Severus said slowly, wanting Harry to be very clear on this point, "that instance marked the first time I let _you_ fuck _me_."

Harry looked at Severus with pure rage. The sofa underneath Severus broke cleanly in half and he found himself dumped on the floor. Harry screamed, "IS THAT REALLY THE POINT, SNAPE?!"

Severus scrambled up from the floor, and cast a wordless and wandless _Incarcerous_ and _Silencio_ on the boy. The tight cords made Harry fall over, and Severus heard distant yelling, but he stalked over to the boy and squatted down next to him. "Listen to me, Potter, because I will only tell you this once. When I was thirteen years old, Avery was a seventh year, and he caught me by myself in the bathroom and he shoved his cock up my arse and made me bleed. He did it twice more before I went to Lucius, who was Head Boy that year, and I told him what was happening. Lucius very kindly fucked my arse more gently than Avery, even though I still didn't like it--and then he gave me to Mulciber for more of the same. After months of this, I finally got up the nerve to tell Lucius that I didn't actually enjoy his cock up my arse, any more than I liked Avery's or Mulciber's. By then I was fourteen, Harry, fourteen--and after that day, I never let anyone EVER touch me there again--until you did, on that day. So yes, whose cock entered whose arse on that day is actually quite important to _my_ story--I'm sorry if it's incidental to yours."

Tears sprang to Harry's eyes, and Severus had to look away. He fell back from Harry and sat down hard on the floor. He cancelled the spells binding Harry, then buried his head in his knees.

Harry spoke, and his voice was thick. "So, instead of saying, 'I'm sorry I let a psychopath rape you for hours in my own bed,' you...Obliviated me and let me fuck your arse."

When Harry put it like that, Severus could understand how it might be inappropriate. "I knew it was inadequate," Severus said into his knees. "But words seemed trite. A monumental mistake required a monumental apology."

"Jesus, that's fucked up," Harry said, and started laughing. "Tell me that you know that's fucked up."

Severus raised his head and looked at Harry, whose laughter turned back into tears. "I'm fucked up," Harry muttered, and stood up--only to stop short. Severus looked at what had startled Harry and saw Weasley and Granger, who had been in the room the whole time.

"Shit," Harry said, and fell back onto the floor. "Shit, I'm just a fuck-up. I'm sorry you two came on this trip, but it's obvious that I'm just the fuck-up that's going to get everyone else killed."

"That's horse shit, Harry," Weasley said.

"It's true--I'm only good for one thing, and no one here wants my services." Harry closed his eyes and shuddered. "I should go," he said slowly. "That would be best," he said, and opened his eyes.

"You can't," Granger said, at the same time Weasley said, "Don't be stupid."

Weasley kept going. "Fine, you're a fuck-up--fine, you almost get us killed. You know why you can't leave? Because you're the only here who's a Parselmouth. I've been thinking about the prophecy and what makes you so special--Harry, besides You-Know-Who, you're the only person on the planet who could get in the Chamber of Secrets to get basilisk fangs! And who knows what other traps he set that need Parseltongue to undo them?"

This made...a lot of sense. It tickled at something, in the back of Severus's mind--Parseltongue--the Chamber of Secrets--traps--

He arrived there at the same moment Granger did. "The locket!" they both cried.

It made Weasley and Harry jump. "Jesus, what's wrong?" Harry yelped.

"The locket, Harry, the locket!" Granger said. "Parseltongue!"

Severus had already picked the locket up off the floor and laid it carefully on a spindly little table. Harry stared at it, frozen.

"Open it with Parseltongue, Harry!" Granger said.

Harry didn't move. Severus wasn't sure he could hear them.

"We can destroy it, Harry," Severus said. "But you have to open it first."

Weasley took Harry by the arm and guided him forward. Harry stumbled with him, his eyes glassy. "I can't," he rasped.

When he reached the Horcrux, Harry fell to his knees and closed his eyes again, shuddering.

"Command the locket to open, Harry," Severus said.

Harry whimpered, his shoulders hunched. Severus grabbed his shoulders roughly.

"OI!" Weasley said, but Harry opened his eyes.

"Are you with us?" Severus asked. "Tell the locket to open, Harry."

Harry looked at Severus, then looked at the locket and spoke in the horrible hissing language of snakes.

The locket opened, and to Severus's astonishment, the Dark Lord burst out of it. They all fell back with a shout, and the Dark Lord stepped closer to Harry.

"Dear, sweet Harry," he said quietly. "I know you would prefer Severus, but he never loved you like I do. He was only ever fucking you; you meant nothing to him. Until he saw too many others enjoying you, and you enjoying them--he never could work up any enthusiasm for you after that, could he?" The Dark Lord laughed, and Harry blinked up at him--as if he wasn't surprised by what he heard. Severus felt his stomach turn, and the Dark Lord continued. "Although--that night he didn't seem to mind taking you one last time, did he? Maybe he only did it because he wanted to punish you for taking all those other men for a ride, hm? Oh, you took everything they gave you so sweetly--I'll never forget how you moaned! You should come to one of our meetings again--the last time we met, everything was so...hurried." At this, the Dark Lord caressed Harry's cheek, and Harry didn't flinch away. He just closed his eyes.

Severus struggled to his feet--he didn't have a plan, but he wanted that monster's hands off Harry--but then the Dark Lord turned to him and laughed.

"Severus, my old friend. You always knew he was better than you, and you wanted to bring him down a peg. Well done, well done. You've made him into someone just like you, now. I've seen his heart; he is properly ruined. You see how he's not just ready to serve me--he's ready to _service_ me. In the future, his friends would do well to keep him away from their children, as his parents would have kept him away from you, had you not killed them first."

Severus shrank back--and distantly, he noticed Granger stepping forward--the Dark Lord turned to her gleefully.

"Hermione Granger," he said, "you've never--"

But Granger stepped neatly around him and stabbed a basilisk fang into the heart of the locket. The Dark Lord screamed and disappeared, leaving the four of them panting in the unnatural still and quiet of the stuffily-decorated sitting room.

"Sorry," Granger said. "I should have had the basilisk fang before we tried to open it--Snape, I'm sorry I went through your bag, it's still in the front hall."

"Huh," Severus said. He lay down on the floor, flat on his back, and stared at the ceiling while trying very hard not to cry.


	20. Gringotts

They had done too much magic in the house, and it felt as if the Dark Lord would resurrect himself (again) in the sitting room at any moment, so they left almost immediately. Granger insisted that they stop at a corner store and buy a map of London and some snacks. The snacks were terrible and Severus couldn't eat them, but the children had no such problems. The map, however, was very useful and showed that there was a tube station barely two blocks away. They walked to the station, where Granger cross-referenced her map with the map pasted to the wall and declared that she knew where they needed to go. They bought more tickets to the train (purchasing them was different now that they all had their cards, but Granger managed it all the same), then boarded the next train. Granger, true to her word, had them changing trains two times, then finally declare that they were at their destination. The neighbourhood she'd chosen was very well-kept, and Severus left the others in a tidy little park while he went to find a house. It didn't take long to find one whose owners would be gone for five weeks.

When Severus brought the children to the house, they went to claim their rooms quickly, but Severus stayed in the kitchen, thinking.

One small Horcrux, and it had nearly destroyed them all--had nearly driven Harry to the brink. Severus didn't like to think about what the Dark Lord had told Harry--about what Harry might have been experiencing as he'd closed his eyes, kneeling in front of the locket. On the train, Severus had kept his eye on Harry, looking for a clue as to his mental state, but the boy had been a blank. His eyes had been dead as he'd stared, unseeing, out the train windows.

Perhaps the Horcrux in Gringotts would be easy to find; easy to destroy--but that left another Horcrux whose whereabouts were a complete mystery, and the snake, which was protected by the Dark Lord himself. Severus suspected that they'd have to get the snake over the Dark Lord's dead body, which posed a bit of a problem, really.

But one thought crystalised in his mind as he sat in this Muggle home, thinking about Horcruxes: he was not likely to survive their destruction. Death would be a relief--especially knowing what he had revealed about himself to Harry, and inadvertently to Granger and Weasley as well. He looked forward to the ending he deserved.

*

The house was big enough so that they all got their own rooms, but Ron didn't like that one bit. He stayed in his room long enough to set his bag down, then turned around and went to Harry's room. He didn't even knock, but let himself in and said, "Hey."

Harry said "hey" back, and Ron thought that was a win. He sat down on the bed and Harry sat down on the chair by the desk.

"So," Ron said, and left it at that.

"Hm," Harry said, agreeing.

They spent several comfortable minutes in silence, until Hermione barged in and said, "Harry, you know You-Know-Who is a vile liar, right?"

Ron snickered. "He's a pile of vile liar."

Hermione frowned, but Harry said, "Is he a ripe pile of vile liar?"

Ron tried to add to it, but Hermione said primly, "Quite."

They all laughed quietly, and Hermione sat on the floor with her back against the bed. "I told you that locket was evil," she said.

"But he didn't really lie," Harry said, and his face looked funny.

"Of course he did," Hermione scoffed, and Ron figured out what was wrong with Harry's face: he was trying not to cry. Ron looked away.

"Everything he said--it was the truth, Hermione," Harry said.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, and there was an edge to her voice that wasn't quite brittle and wasn't quite mean.

Harry hesitated and sniffed wetly. Ron still didn't look at him. "That night with the Death Eaters--I said I hated it but--I lied."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked again, and it sounded more dangerous this time.

"I liked it," Harry said, defiant and quiet. "I came--a lot. I came so many times that the last few times I was dry, but I came anyway."

Hermione stood quickly. "Tell me you understand about the body's physiological responses."

Harry stood, too. "Of course I understand--this was different!"

"How was it different, Harry!"

Harry made a sound of frustration. "Hermione, listen to me: I understand what it means to be raped, okay? I've--I know, okay? And I also know what it feels like when I'm into it. It's--what happened that night--it was sick, okay? It was sick, and I shouldn't have been _into_ it, but I _was_ \--okay?"

Ron felt very uncomfortable, but Hermione marched right over to Harry and pinched his arm, _hard_.

"OW!" Harry said, and twisted away and shoved Hermione, but she just came back and pinched him again. Harry shoved her again, harder, but she kept at it, and Ron felt like he needed to separate them, so he jumped in and got shoved and pinched for his efforts. "Stop!" he said, and punched Harry in the arm and yanked Hermione away. "Fuck," someone said, and Ron got kicked in the shins and they all fell to the floor and Ron was on the bottom and he had a mouthful of Hermione's hair and something was digging into the meaty part of his leg, and he tried to push everyone off of him and someone else yelled, "No biting, damn it!" and Ron managed to roll over and crawl away.

He panted on the floor and saw that Harry and Hermione had broken apart, too. Ron took stock. His face stung where he'd been scratched, his thigh was throbbing, his knuckles were scraped, and he had a fat lip. He moved his fingers and toes and rolled his head around. Not bad. Harry was nursing a bloody nose and Hermione was looking at her arm, which had a bite mark on it. 

"You _bit_ her?" Ron said incredulously.

"Got her to stop, didn't I?" Harry said bitterly.

Ron sighed. "Not sure that now's the time," he said, "but what the fuck?"

"I'm trying to prove a point," Hermione said fiercely.

"Shit, Hermione," Harry said, as he kept dabbing his nose. "Use your words next time."

"You still don't get it!" Hermione yelled, and launched herself at Harry again.

"No!" Harry and Ron yelled at the same time, and Harry ducked and scrambled away, and Ron put her in a bear hug, taking her down to the floor.

"What is wrong with you!" Ron asked.

"He's so, so stupid!" Hermione yelled, still struggling.

Ron had never, ever seen Hermione like this. "Er--Hermione--do you remember the first time we met?"

"You think I'm under Polyjuice?" she yelled, and then she slumped. She took a deep breath. "Yes, of course you think I'm under Polyjuice. Ron, we met on the train--Neville had lost his toad. I told the both of you that you needed to change into your school robes, and Ron, I told you that you had something on your nose."

Oddly, knowing that this was Hermione was no comfort to Ron. "Then, once again, _what the fuck_ ?"

"Harry," Hermione said earnestly, "how did you feel when I pinched you?"

Harry looked at Ron, bewildered. Ron could only shrug.

Harry said, "I felt...bad?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked up at Ron as if she wanted his help. Ron still wasn't sure if it was safe to let her go.

"Fine," Hermione said. "Fine, that's good. You felt bad." She looked back at Harry and waited expectantly.

"Yes," he said. "I felt bad. It hurt." He looked wildly at Ron, but Ron was doing his best to stay out of it, this time. Bear hug or no.

Hermione tried to sit up, and Ron let her but kept hold of her wrist. "It hurt," she repeated. "Was it your fault that it hurt?"

Harry blinked at her and said, "Oh."

"Was it your fault, Harry? Does it have anything to do with you, that it hurts when I pinch you?"

"That's not the same, Hermione," Harry said, but he didn't sound sure.

"It is! Pinches hurt; sexual touches feel good. Neither one of those things is your FAULT, Harry!"

"Oh," Harry said again, and burst into messy tears. Ron let Hermione go, and she crawled over to Harry but didn't touch him. "I--I didn't like it," Harry gasped, "when you pinched me." His sobs sounded a bit like laughter for a few moments, but then he was definitely crying again. Ron started to cry too, his salty tears reminding him that his cheek was scratched.

"Sorry for biting you," Harry said to Hermione.

Hermione shrugged. "It was a natural reaction," she said, and Harry laughed again.

*

The next morning, Ron woke up with a firm plan: he would write to Bill. Not to ask for help, necessarily, but to get some information about Gringotts.

He knew there were some problems with this plan--first of all, he didn't have a quill, parchment, or an owl--but he found _paper_ and a _pen_ in the desk drawer, and held them both in his hands and let himself think about his dad for a few minutes. He scribbled with the pen on the paper and wrote: _Arthur Weasley loves Muggles._ He smiled, underlined it, then wiped his face. Then he got out a new sheet of paper and wrote "Dear Bill,".

This was when he discovered that his plan was more problematic than he'd thought. He couldn't exactly say that he wanted to break into Gringotts to steal a bit of You-Know-Who's soul, but that's exactly what he needed to say, and dancing around it wasn't exactly easy.

He needed someone sneaky. He needed Snape.

It didn't take long for Ron to find him in the kitchen, and even though Snape didn't look happy or welcoming, Ron said, "I need your help."

Snape looked at him and smirked. "Rough night with your girlfriend?"

Ron was very confused, but Snape gestured at his cheek. "Oh," Ron said, and touched the scratches on his cheek. "No, just a civilised discussion among friends," he said.

Snape blinked at him. "Gryffindors."

Ron shrugged, but didn't deny it. He couldn't imagine Ravenclaws doing what Hermione did to prove her point. "Anyway, like I said, I need your help." He explained his plan, and Snape looked at him.

"I thought you didn't want to involve your brother."

"Well...I don't really want him to help us break in. But if he could just--"

"Tell you how to break in?" Snape suggested with a sneer.

"Point out some weaknesses in security," Ron said.

"An interesting moral distinction," Snape said.

Ron sighed. "Will you help or not?"

"What do you want to say in this letter?"

"'Dear Bill, me and Harry and Hermione and Snape are on a mission to kill You-Know-Who and we need to steal a bit of his soul out of Bellatrix Lestrange's vault in Gringotts. Do you have any tips? Love from Ron.'"

Snape got the oddest look on his face. Ron thought for a moment that Snape was trying not to cry, but then Snape covered his face and snorted. (Had he been trying not to _laugh?_ , Ron wondered.) Snape said, "Clearly, you could use some lessons in subterfuge."

"I think the 'Dear Bill' part is alright," Ron said.

But in the end, Snape got rid of even that. Twenty minutes later, Snape handed over a letter for Ron to copy.

To William Weasley  
Dear Sir:

I have a priceless artefact that I would like to entrust to the care of Gringotts, but I would first like reassurances that your institution can provide the security the artefact requires.

First of all, a curse was placed on my family, the effect of which is that we always lose our keys. Will I be able to access my vault without a key, and if so, what measures does Gringotts take to ensure that no one else can do so? I am especially concerned that someone disguised with Polyjuice might break into my vault.

Secondly, I am aware that the Goblins of Gringotts have access to the vaults, and I know that they will guard my artefact jealously, but tell me--could a thief put a Goblin under the Imperius Curse, and use the Goblin to steal my artefact?

I would appreciate knowing any measures that Gringotts has in place to thwart such underhanded thievery.

Many thanks,  
Bilius Prewett

"Now all I need is an owl," Ron said.

"Tell Harry of your plan," Snape said.

Ron frowned, and Snape sighed. "You think his owl is just a pet?" Snape said. "Tell Harry your plan, and show him the letter. If he agrees with you, his owl will turn up, rest assured."

Ron agreed and got up to leave. Then he turned around and said, "Snape, you know what you did to Harry was wrong, right?"

Snape's face hardened, but Ron didn't really care. He ploughed on. "I heard what the Horcrux said to you, so I know you're not--like, patting yourself on the back for it."

"Mr Weasley--"

"So, if what you told Harry is true, then you should know that what Malfoy and Mulciber did to you was wrong, too."

Ron wasn't sure why he said it--he hadn't really even been thinking about it--and Snape looked so--angry--but Ron realised he didn't care. He shrugged and walked out of the kitchen.

*

The new house was the best they'd stayed in so far. Severus's room was far enough away from the children's rooms that he felt he had some privacy. It also had a games cupboard so that the other three were able to keep themselves occupied well enough. After they'd been there a week, Severus noticed the presence of a squashed-faced, bandy-legged Kneazle. He peered at it curiously, then went downstairs to the kitchen to find Harry and his friends playing Chinese chequers.

"Who brought the Kneazle?" Severus asked.

Granger looked up. "His name is Crookshanks, and he's mine."

"Granger...we're on the run. We can't be...picking up pets."

"But--Ron told Harry that you--he's not just a pet. Hedwig's not just a pet. I needed Crookshanks and he came."

Severus gave up and sat down at the table. "Did you post your letter, Weasley?"

Weasley shrugged. "A few days ago, yeah. Hedwig came back, but Bill hasn't written."

"Does that not worry you?" Severus asked.

Weasley shrugged. "I thought I'd give it a week before I started to worry. Give Bill some time to figure out how to say anything worthwhile." He picked up one of his pieces and jumped it clear across the board.

Harry groaned. "I thought you said you'd never played this before!"

"Oh, well," Weasley said. "I've just never played the Muggle version."

Harry and Granger both stared at Weasley. "What's Wizarding Chinese chequers like, then?" Granger asked.

Weasley glanced at Severus and started snickering. "More explosions?" he said.

Harry didn't look convinced, and Weasley said, "Okay, okay, there is no Wizarding Chinese chequers."

Granger took her turn and jumped a respectable five pieces. "I'm going to kick your arse at this game, Ronald Weasley."

Harry glanced at Severus and moved one piece forward.

"Poor Harry," Weasley said. "He's just here to look pretty, and he's not even very good at that."

Severus continued to watch the game, which included a surprising amount of insults, and which Granger won, with Harry close behind her. Weasley was a distant third.

"I demand a rematch!" Weasley said.

"Severus," Harry said, "do you want to play?"

Severus looked at Harry, who looked away quickly. Truthfully, Severus was bored. Watching three children play a Muggle board game had been the most entertainment he'd had in weeks. He had no reputation to uphold; all three of these people already knew the worst of him.

"What's the matter, Snape?" Weasley asked. "Too chicken?"

"I'm sure Snape doesn't want to play with us," Granger said. "Besides, he would be too humiliated if he lost."

Severus rolled his eyes and said, "You are greatly overestimating the value I place on Muggle board games."

"I think you're greatly underestimating your own stubborn pride," Harry muttered, not looking up. He was already pulling out orange pieces for Severus.

"Youngest goes first!" Weasley said, and gave Harry a nudge.

Harry looked at Severus, and Severus froze. "Don't make it weird," Harry said under his breath, and moved a piece.

It was one of the most surreal afternoons of Severus's life.

*

After Ron had waited for five days, Hedwig disappeared one night and reappeared the next day with a letter from Bill. It said, "Ron--I told Mum that you're okay. DO NOT TRY TO STEAL FROM GRINGOTTS, you bloody arsing idiot. Maybe you could send me a better note if you could learn blood magic, first? Happy birthday and take care--Bill."

"Argh," Ron said. "He didn't _say_ anything."

"Let me see," Hermione said, and Ron handed it over. She read over it a long time, and said, "Actually, I think we can use this."

"What part?"

"The whole thing, Ron!" Hermione said, and pointed. Ron looked over her shoulder and was astonished to see a completely different letter.

To Mr Bilius Prewett:  
Dear sir:

As per your letter of 1 March, I can assure you that a high-security vault would suit your purposes. High security vaults do not even require keys, which should tell you something about the magic inside the vaults themselves. The goblins are very secretive about their security, of course, but they are deeply confident that nothing can be removed from their vaults except by the owner, or by someone acting on the express wishes of the owner.

The two main components to Gringotts security are the Goblins and the vaults. Goblins may not understand all of human nature, but they do understand and recognise greed. If it is in a person's heart to steal, the Goblins know almost immediately. As for the vaults, they were designed to hoard. If the vault senses a threat, it will let nothing out, including the would-be thief. Polyjuice, you see, would do a thief no good.

There are other more visible security measures, of course--labyrinths and minotaurs and dragons and the like--but these are mainly for theatre. If you can call the threat of dismemberment by a minotaur "theatre."

I hope that you are reassured by these measures and that you decide that a Gringotts vault is the very safest place to keep your treasure. If you have any additional questions, do not hesitate to write.

Sincerely,  
Bill Weasley

"Huh," Ron said. "He wrote me a different letter."

"We need to show this to Harry and Snape," Hermione said.

When everyone had read the letter--the one to Bilius Prewett, because none of the rest of them could see Bill's other letter, even when Ron held on to it for them--Hermione said, "It sounds like we can do it."

"We wouldn't want to steal anything," Ron agreed. "We'd just take along a Basilisk fang or two and--Mixie's pixies, we're done."

Hermione and Harry gave him an odd look.

"What?" he asked.

"Did you say 'mixie's pixies'?" Hermione said.

"Yeah! Mixie's pixies, we're done."

"Thought so," Hermione said. "And it sounds like Polyjuice would get us through the front doors, so--"

"So all we need, really," Snape said, "is one hair from the head of Bellatrix Lestrange."

Hermione slumped a bit.

"That wouldn't be so hard," Harry said. "The real question is, who plays Bellatrix?"

There was a short pause, and Snape narrowed his eyes. "It obviously must be me." Snape squared his shoulders and drew himself up--as if any of them wanted to fight him for it. 

"But what about the rest of us?" Harry asked. "I can be under the Invisibility Cloak--and maybe one more can hide with me, but I don't think it's big enough for all three of us anymore."

"I don't see why anyone else would need to come," Snape said.

"To break into Gringotts?" Ron said incredulously. "No, I'm sure you wouldn't want any back-up at all."

"More people is more opportunities to get caught," Snape said doggedly.

"Severus," Harry said, "how will you know what you're looking for?"

Snape shifted. "It's either the cup or the diadem."

Harry laughed. "Should I draw you a picture of them, then? You'll have one chance, once you're in the vault--I get the feeling that if you start pulling cups and diadems toward you, the vault won't like it much--Severus--I know the Horcruxes like I made them myself. I have to go with you."

Snape looked down.

"And Ron and Hermione are coming with me," Harry continued.

"Of course they are," Snape said. "We'll all just hold hands--I'll pretend like you're my prisoners!"

Ron scowled. "How weird would it be if Narcissa Malfoy went to Gringotts with her sister?"

Snape was quiet, which meant that he couldn't think of anything bad to say. Then he said, "Who would play that part?" He looked at Harry, who shrank away.

"I don't like Polyjuice," Harry said--and these days, Ron took Harry at his word. So Ron looked at Hermione.

"I've met her a few times," Hermione said uncertainly.

"You just have to hold your head up and act like you're used to people doing things for you," Ron said. "You wouldn't have to say much."

"Why can't you do it?" Hermione demanded.

"Listen--I don't want you to think this is chauvinistic, but more of--I'm aware of my failings--I don't think it would matter if I was wearing a girl's body--I don't think I could..."

"Glide," Harry said.

"Glide," Ron agreed. "That's exactly it."

Hermione gave a short sigh. "You are a great blundering oaf."

"Guilty."

They all turned to Severus, who said, "Oh, I suppose it's my job to get the requisite hairs, then."

"To each their talents, Snape," Ron said.

*

Narcissa was not happy about the favour Severus asked, especially when it came to the implications. "I assume you'll be out in public," she said.

"It can't be helped," Severus said.

"Give me time," she said. "I'll find an opportunity."

Severus understood the quandary. It wouldn't do for him to swan about Gringotts, wearing the body of Bellatrix Lestrange if _the actual Bellatrix Lestrange_ was swanning about elsewhere in Diagon Alley. The problem was compounded by the small issue of someone else swanning about while wearing the body of Narcissa Malfoy. Severus would have preferred to swan about in the body of someone with a lower profile while breaking into the most notoriously well-guarded bank in all of Britain. But his options on this front were limited.

So, he settled in for the wait.

They moved houses two more times. Their newest location was in Manchester and it suited their purposes well enough--but the games cupboard was limited. It was fine--Severus had taught them all Whist and they'd caught on quickly. They traded partners often when he first taught the game, so that everyone could get a feel for strategy. To Severus's surprise, Granger and Weasley were more than adequate, and Harry proved to be absolutely cunning. Within a week, they settled into the game, Severus partnering regularly with Harry and Granger partnering Weasley.

Severus enjoyed their games. At first, he tried not to look too much at Harry, because Severus could see every one of his sins when he did. But soon things became almost...comfortable. And soon after that, Severus neglected to put up the Imperturbable Charm on his door at night.

He knew it was foolish, but he told himself it didn't matter. It didn't matter because he was likely to die soon, and Harry had already moved on anyway, and besides, Harry was his partner now. His Whist partner.

And so Severus couldn't say he was entirely surprised when Harry simply walked into his room at half eleven that night. Harry blinked at him, holding on to the door for a good while before he squared his shoulders and purposefully strode in and shut the door behind him.

"You let me in tonight," Harry said.

"You let yourself in tonight," Severus countered.

Harry backed up against the door. "What are you playing at?"

Severus lifted his eyebrows, and Harry snorted and closed his eyes.

"I mean," Harry said, "the games. Playing games with us. What--what are you doing?"

"Playing Whist," Severus said.

"Because we're mates, now?"

"Because we appear to be the last four people left on the planet," Severus said.

Harry laughed a bit and opened his eyes. "So--it's because you literally have no other options."

"Yes."

There was a silence while Harry seemed to gather himself. Then he said with a shaking voice, "How could you rape me in front of everyone?"

Severus did not want to think about that night, ever again. Merlin, how he wished his death were nearer. Without meaning to, he checked the galleon in his pocket, but it was still cold.

"I just need to understand," Harry continued, his voice breaking, "how...that could turn you on--how you could _want_ it--but _after_ that night--it's like you never wanted me again, Snape--and it's not fair--it's not right."

Severus turned away long before Harry was finished speaking. He addressed his reply to the windows. "Name one thing that ever transpired between the two of us that was fair or right, Harry."

"That's not an answer!" Harry yelled. "And that's not--everything between us might have been...twisted, but--that night was different--don't pretend it wasn't DIFFERENT!"

Harry's words cut him. Severus reacted the only way he knew. He turned around and spoke in his most deadly voice. "Which part was different, Harry? Functionally, the only difference I could tell was the volume of ejaculate in your arse by the end of the evening."

It was a lie. It was such a lie.

"You know, sometimes I think you _won't_ actually say the worst possible thing," Harry said, his face twisting into an ugly shape.

"You should know me better than that," Severus said, and humiliated himself by bursting into tears. He turned away; buried his face in his hands. He didn't understand himself--he hadn't left his door unwarded for _this_. Why had he left his door unwarded?

_Because he missed Harry._

And Harry was not leaving now, despite the fact that Severus so desperately wanted him to. "Everything," Severus choked. "I primed you and trained you and _formed_ you to take everything that happened that night! Remember how I used to take your wand before we went to see Lucius? I wanted you helpless--Merlin fuck, how I succeeded. You didn't even flinch when they stripped you naked and tied you up--and I remember that and think, _yes, I taught him to expect that_."

"Is that what turned you on? That I did exactly what you taught me to do?"

"Are you not listening?! It was precisely the opposite--I've never been less turned on in my life!"

"Oh, I must have not noticed because I was too busy taking your cock up my arse!"

"You fool! I did what I had to to survive the night! What was I to do?--say, 'Sorry, Mr Dark Lord--I'll pass--I don't want to hurt Harry's feelings!'"

"Your cock was hard, Snape!"

The problem was, of course, that Harry was a fool. Severus whipped out his wand, pointed it at Harry and muttered a quick, " _Viagra_." Harry stumbled back against the door, and Severus hissed, "There. Not quite the same as arousal, is it? But if it were required of you, I imagine you could fake it well enough."

"Shit," Harry said, and pressed his palm down to his crotch. "That's vile. Shit."

Severus took pity on him. " _Finite_."

Harry stumbled forward, and it took Severus a moment to realise that the door had opened behind him and Granger tumbled in. "Hey," Granger said, looking disheveled. Her voice was thick. "Everything okay in here?"

Severus was deeply tired of having so many witnesses to the worst moments of his life. "Peachy," he said. At least Harry no longer had an erection, so he supposed it could be worse.

Just then, Weasley pushed his way in the room. "Oi, d'you need a referee?"

"No," Severus said. "Potter was just realising that I am a bad person."

Harry scoffed. "But then you get me out of there that night! You risked everything--after everything you did--I just don't understand!"

" _I got you out of there_? Who put you there in the first place, Harry? All of my fantasies--everything I had been playing at, for years--THAT WAS WHAT I WANTED! AND I GOT IT! I must say, though, that I'm disappointed in you for failing to THANK ME AFTERWARDS!"

"Take Harry," Granger said. "I'll stay with Snape."

Severus had no idea what she was on about, but Weasley put an arm around Harry and led him, stumbling, from the room. Severus watched them go, and watched Granger close the door after the two had left. She turned around and squared her shoulders, much as Harry had, and said, "You were talking about the night You-Know-Who came back."

Severus thought about hexing her. Thought about hitting her. Thought about pushing her away and walking out of his room.

Instead, he lay carefully on the bed and turned away from her. 

"You were one of the ones who raped him that night," Granger said, finally fitting that piece into the great puzzle that was her mind.

Severus closed his eyes, tried to keep his breathing steady.

"Did you ever apologise to him?"

"I fucked him. Does that count?" Severus had meant for it to sound biting, but it hadn't. Not at all.

Granger huffed. There was silence for a moment, then Granger asked, "No word from Mrs Malfoy yet?"

"None," Severus mumbled.

"Hm," she said, and left the room without another word.

*

The next morning, Harry couldn't hold anything in his brain. He wanted to pretend like nothing had happened, as Ron and Hermione were--and as Severus was doing--but he couldn't follow anything that happened around him. At some point, someone handed him a plate of toast and he only looked at it, unsure. What was he supposed to do with toast?

"Harry?" Hermione said.

"Hm?" Harry said, looking up from the baffling toast.

"I said, aren't you hungry?"

"Yes?" he guessed. Her words were as confusing as the toast. He put the plate of toast down on the counter and left the kitchen. He found a bathroom and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. 

Ron found him there and sat down next to him. 

"I wanted to die, that night," Harry said. The words surprised him, but he kept talking anyway. "When Vol--You-Know-Who--killed me. Just before he did it, I was glad that it was finally over. You know, the real reason I didn't stay dead was because even death wasn't an escape from what happened to me? I could still remember it. My mum had _seen_ it--it was still real, even though I was dead."

"That's..." Ron didn't finish his sentence, even though Harry waited.

"Yeah," Harry eventually said. "Did I ever really love him?"

Ron shrugged. "Sometimes I think there's not just one thing that you can call 'love'."

Harry huffed. "I was so stupid, to think he loved me."

Ron shrugged again. "It's hard to tell, sometimes--because he spends so much time hating himself--but he...doesn't act like he doesn't love you."

Harry looked at Ron, who said, "That made more sense before I heard it out loud."

"No, no," Harry said. "It made sense out loud, too."

*

Harry was still in a fog by late morning, when Severus came into the sitting room and told them all to pack their things. "Narcissa has contacted me," he said. "I'll meet with her in an hour and it's quite possible we'll have to leave soon thereafter."

"Today?" Hermione said, with a concerned glance at Harry.

Severus sneered. "Shall I put her off, then? Tell her that one of our party is feeling too delicate today, and that we'll wait for our next opportunity?"

"I'm fine," Harry bristled.

"Good," Severus said. "Prepare yourselves then." He turned and left the room. 

As soon as Severus was gone, Hermione turned to Harry. "Will you be able to focus on what you have to do?" she asked.

Harry stood up quickly. "I'm not _mental_ , Hermione."

"Good," she said primly. "Oh, don't look at me like that--if our roles were reversed, would you think I was ready to break into Gringotts today, in the company of Severus Snape?"

Harry made an odd noise. "Hermione, whatever happens, I'm ready. I can't keep sitting here, doing nothing--playing cards!"

"Too right," Ron said. "Let's go pack." 

And so it was that at precisely five minutes past two o'clock that afternoon, Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy walked into Gringotts. Bellatrix walked right up to the counter and declared that she needed to be taken to her vault. Narcissa did a very good job of standing close by, looking bored.

Harry and Ron, meanwhile, followed close behind them under the Invisibility Cloak. Harry was glad to let Ron take the lead. There was something deeply unsettling about Bellatrix. If Severus was playing her correctly, then Harry felt lucky to have never met her.

A goblin led Bellatrix and Narcissa to a cart, and Harry and Ron hustled in behind them, unseen. The cart hurtled along the path--much farther than Harry usually went to get to his own vault--eventually passing a dragon, which cowered away from the cart as the goblin loudly clanked metal clappers as they passed. Harry was bewildered, but Bellatrix and Narcissa both looked quite bored. 

And then the cart stopped and the goblin opened the door of an enormous vault. Harry felt his stomach sink when he saw how full it was; until that moment, he had thought that finding the Horcrux would be an easy matter.

"Touch nothing," Bellatrix warned. If the goblin thought this request odd, he didn't say anything.

Harry stood in place, under the Invisibility Cloak with Ron, turning and trying to find the cup or the diadem.

"There's a cup!" Ron said, pointing.

The goblin started, and Bellatrix turned on him and cast, " _Imperio_."

Harry looked at where Ron pointed and found an ornate silver goblet. "No," Harry said as he pulled off the Cloak. "It's gold and kind of...plainer than that."

"What about that?" Narcissa asked, pointing at a tiara.

Harry shook his head. "It has...like, a sapphire in it?" He let his eyes wander as he searched for words to describe the delicate curlicues of the diadem--and suddenly he saw the Horcrux. On a shelf in a far corner of the vault sat Hufflepuff's cup, which contained Voldemort's soul. Harry must have made some sort of noise, because everyone turned to look at him. He pointed unsteadily. "There it is," he croaked.

He couldn't tear his eyes away. The cup gleamed prettily, giving no outward sign that it had been tainted at all.

Somehow, that didn't seem right to Harry. It should be ugly; malevolent. Misshapen or damaged, clunky and unusable. But there it sat, unassuming; unmolested. Abruptly, Harry's knees buckled and Ron caught him.

"Shit," Bellatrix said and strode over to Harry, leaning over him with a concerned yet sinister look.

"Fuck it," Ron said, and walked away. Bellatrix reached for Harry's face.

Harry knew it was Severus--he _knew_ it--but that didn't seem to matter. He shrank away. "Don't," he said.

But then Narcissa barked, "Ron, don't!" but there was a clatter and a hiss and all eyes turned to Ron, standing in the middle of the vault. At his feet was a cup, pierced by a Basilisk fang. They all froze for a few moments, struck dumb.

"I didn't touch it," Ron said quietly. "Except with the fang."

"Come back here," Narcissa breathed. "Slowly."

Ron did, and they stood quietly for a moment or two, breathing.

"Was that it, then?" Narcissa asked, disbelieving.

They all looked at the goblin, who looked back at them, unconcerned, and then they looked at the vault door, still standing open.

"I'll modify his memory," Bellatrix said. "After we leave the vault."

"So that's really it?" Harry asked, not knowing if he was disappointed or relieved.

"Mixie's Pixies," Ron said, but he didn't look entirely convinced, himself.

"We have yet to escape," Bellatrix said.

But their escape consisted of little more than a short walk to a tube station, a train ride to the outskirts of London, and settling in to yet another house with a fairly decent games cupboard.

"That was too easy," Harry told Ron later that afternoon.

"Christ, Harry," Ron said. "Maybe not every Horcrux will require that someone dies to get it, you know. Maybe, on the whole, this task is only the most difficult thing we'll ever have to do--not the last thing any of us will ever do."

That actually made Harry feel slightly better.

"Besides, we still have to destroy the diadem--and we have no idea where to start looking for that--and then, of course, the snake. So, let's not worry too much that any part of this was too easy, yeah?"

Harry nodded. Exhausted from the emotional turmoil of the day, and also let down from the almost complete lack of excitement, Harry fell asleep in his room and missed supper entirely. He couldn't remember if he dreamed, but when he woke up he was thinking of Severus. It was late--still before midnight, but it was dark and the house was quiet.

He crept out of bed and through the house to the room that he thought Severus would most likely take. Harry could see through the crack in the bottom of the door that the light was on in the room. He jiggled the handle--it was unlocked and unwarded. Harry took a deep breath and let himself in.

Severus seemed genuinely surprised to see him. "Your inability to learn from your mistakes just never fails to astonish me, Potter."

Harry scowled at him. "I'm just used to your unpleasantness, Severus. So which one of us can't learn?"

Snape opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Harry said, "I didn't mean--last night--I didn't mean to talk about--what I said. Just--there's some things--with you--that still--" Harry made a frustrated sound. "Never mind. I've been thinking, you know--about what you told me. About Avery and Lucius."

"Harry, don't--"

"You know, it took me a year to tell Ron about what Lupin did. A year--and then I only told him because I had a nightmare and everything was spilling out of me anyway. And then I'm not sure I ever would have told him about you, but he guessed the truth and then he kept asking questions--and I would answer them but it felt like--it felt like poison was being pulled out of me. And it was horrible and I hated it, but afterwards I felt like--I hadn't known what that poison had been doing to me, inside, you know? I felt so much better, when Ron knew.

"And so--what you said--you were so much braver than me, you know--telling someone so much sooner than I ever thought to--except that you didn't have a Ron--instead you had Lucius, and he--" Harry couldn't say it; he couldn't think it. Ages ago, Severus had told Harry that Lucius had "helped" him, after an older boy had hurt him. And then, not too long ago, Severus had said that everyone was fooled by Lucius eventually, but not him--he'd just been a fool.

Madam Pomfrey had told Harry that blaming yourself was a way of taking control of an uncontrollable situation after the fact. She'd also said that it was normal for your perspective to change, the further away something got, and the more you learned about it.

At the time, Harry hadn't thought that anything Madam Pomfrey said was helpful at all, but that didn't seem to be the case anymore.

"Lucius did what he did," Severus said. "And twenty years later, I tied you up and gave you to him, Harry."

"Yeah. And it's fucked up, because I liked it. We're both pretty fucked up, you know."

"I should think that one of us is more fucked up than the other."

Harry actually laughed in Snape's face. "Do you know, after that day with you and Lucius, I went back to my dorm and told Ron that I had a boyfriend? Because that's how it felt to me. So don't tell me that I'm not fucked up."

Severus sniffed delicately. "That wasn't what I was saying."

Harry laughed again, then stopped short. "You never had a Ron, though. And I would love to hate you for everything, but then I remember--you didn't have a Ron. What would I have done, without Ron?"

"I do hope that you're not trying to justify my actions, Potter."

"Merlin, you're a tit."

"Or worst yet, you might be talking yourself into _pitying_ me."

"Huh," Harry said. "You think pity is the worst thing. I suppose that explains a lot."

Severus sighed, but said nothing. Harry stared at him, waiting. But then he wasn't sure what he was waiting for, so he turned to leave.

"Harry," Severus said. Harry stopped at the door but didn't turn to Severus. There was something in Severus's voice that was unfamiliar.

"You know--you must know," Severus began haltingly. "I am not a man given to apologies. But I am aware that I have injured you, grievously. I--regret my past actions. I have been endeavouring to...mitigate my mistakes. Our constant proximity--complicates the issue."

Harry supposed that was the best he could hope for, really. "Apology accepted," he said quietly, and left before Severus said anything that would ruin the moment, such as it was.


	21. Those who say the past is not dead should stop and smell the smoke

Severus had known from the start that this mission was destined for failure. And though things had gone much more smoothly than anyone had any right to hope for, the most mundane detail would yet prove to be their downfall.

He was almost out of money.

He had converted all his galleons to pounds early on, and had figured that it would last through nearly the end of August--but he had only counted on feeding himself and Harry. Doubling their party had the unfortunate effect of doubling their food budget--and while they helped themselves to whatever food they could find in the houses, most people who left on vacation did not leave their cupboards full of fresh fruit and vegetables, let alone meat and cheese. The best they could hope for was one unopened bag of crisps, or a package of crumbling digestives, a lone tin of tomatoes.

So, the first week of June, he broke his last hundred-pound note, and hoped that if they relied heavily on beans and noodle soup, they could make the money last. Maybe they could make it last long enough to find and destroy the diadem and the snake.

It was impossible. And a steady diet of beans and noodle soup was untenable. He had another option, of course, but it was unthinkable. Unfortunately, as he was caught between the impossible and the untenable, he found himself quite able to contemplate the unthinkable.

He had a small purse, containing two hundred and fifty galleons. He hadn't yet touched it, of course--it sat in the bottom of his traveling bag. He had accidentally brushed his hand up against it a few times, and had pulled away quickly.

Two hundred and fifty galleons. It would be more than five hundred pounds--maybe as much as a thousand. If only he could bring himself to touch it.

He was thus occupied with his thoughts when Miss Granger knocked on the door to his room.

"Snape," she greeted him with determined eye contact. "I need more tampons."

He recoiled, and she set her jaw. "W--why now?" he asked, hating himself for stuttering. He tried to follow Granger's lead and squared his shoulders, but he couldn't look her in the eye.

"Because I've run out and I just started my period," she said bluntly.

He supposed he had asked the question, so he deserved that. But still. "Can't you just buy your own?"

"I have been," the girl said. "But I'm out of money."

_What a coincidence,_ he thought. He didn't have enough money to feed them all, and now he was expected to buy tampons as well? He supposed it could have been worse--they all could have been female. It would have been double the food budget and quadruple the tampon budget. He hadn't counted on a tampon budget at all.

The unthinkable had become necessary. "Miss Granger," he said, "I have set aside an emergency fund; you'll find it in a small coin purse in the bottom of my bag. If you will convert it to Muggle money and buy your own...products...I would only ask that you give the rest back to me."

Granger was rightly suspicious, but was eventually convinced to take the small purse out of Severus's bag. She hefted it in her hand. "This must be two hundred galleons!" she exclaimed.

"Mm," he said.

"And you want me to walk right into Gringotts and convert it to pounds?"

Severus's idea was slightly more detailed than that. He wanted her to take Polyjuice, _then_ walk right into Gringotts and convert it to pounds.

Surprisingly, they were able to execute his rather simple plan almost immediately. Unfortunately, just before Granger left the house, Harry caught a glimpse of the small purse full of galleons. Severus saw his face darken, then his expression went blank. Severus ignored it and sent Granger on her way to convert the money. He and Harry and Ron waited in the front room for a tense hour, not speaking.

When Granger returned, she had a shopping bag that Severus didn't examine too closely. "Here," she said, handing over an assortment of Muggle notes and coins. "It's just over eight hundred ninety-two pounds."

"How many galleons was it?" Harry asked quietly.

"Two hundred fifty, the goblins said," Granger answered.

Harry turned to Severus, and said nothing.

"What am I to do?" Severus asked bitterly. "Let us starve?"

"Oh, in that case!" Harry said sarcastically. "If you need me for anything else, let me know!"

"What is going on?" Weasley asked slowly.

Harry laughed humourlessly. "I'm sure Severus can tell you--can't you, Severus? Where _ever_ did you get two hundred and fifty galleons?"

"You think I _wanted_ this?" he yelled, shaking his fist, clutched around the bills. " _We have no money_ , Harry. Would it be better if I didn't have this?"

"You tell me!" Harry screamed. "Would it be better, Severus?"

"It doesn't even matter!" Severus screamed back. "We have it--it's foolish not to use it!"

"'We have it'-- _WE_ have it? Who has it?"

Severus stormed over, shoving the money at Harry. "Take it, then! Take it--it's yours!" Harry pushed him away and the money fell to the floor. Granger stepped in, as if worried that Severus would want to lay his hands on Harry--when in truth, he wanted nothing of the sort. He stepped back, panting. "There it is," he said, pointing at the money on the floor. "Evidence of my transgressions. Do what you want with it," he muttered. He walked over to a chair and sat down heavily.

"Harry," Granger said, "I didn't know--I'm sorry--I would never have--"

Harry mumbled something; Severus didn't hear.

"I--I already used some of it," Granger said, holding up the plastic bag.

"What?!" Harry said. "What did you buy?"

"Tampons," Granger said miserably.

Severus couldn't help it; he snorted. The room fell silent for a few moments, then Weasley started giggling. Harry joined in, and Severus hid his face in his hands and chuckled, too.

"This," Harry declared, "is ridiculous."

"I'm sorry," Granger said again.

"No, Hermione, it's perfect. Don't worry about it," Harry said.

"Have you really been buying all our food?" Weasley asked.

Severus looked at the boy. Where had he thought their food came from? The house elves?

"Right, and you're almost out?" Weasley pressed.

Severus sighed. "There are four of us, Weasley. We could choose which one of us gets to eat each day while the rest of us starve, or we need more money. I thought the latter course more appropriate; do let me know if any of you disagree."

"You should have told me before you used that money," Harry said.

Severus didn't know what to say to that.

"Right," Harry said, snorting. "It's that thing where you're incapable of human decency--I get it."

"Harry," Granger said, chastising.

"The money is yours," Severus said, not looking up. "I tried to give it to you before--you didn't want it then and I assumed you didn't want it now."

"I don't want it!"

"Well, then, I'd say we're done here!" Severus said, standing up to leave.

"Jesus!" Harry cried. "Jesus, and you still can't apologise!"

"What do you want from me?" Severus yelled. "'Oh, Harry, I'm so _sorry_ Lucius sold you to others, I'm so _sorry_ you would have rather done it for free, and I'm so _sorry_ that we won't starve for another month!'"

He was so focused on Harry that he didn't notice Weasley rushing at him from the side, not until Weasley shoved him so hard that he stumbled back and fell into the wall. Weasley's face was bright red and twisted with fury. "If that's how you're going to be, Snape, keep your fucking mouth shut!" he yelled.

Severus pushed himself off the wall and stood up and squared his shoulders, panting. "I didn't want this," he said. "I didn't want any of this."

"I suppose you want me to apologise to you, then?" Harry said bitterly.

"No! Christ, no--do you not--Harry--Christ--can we just let the past be?"

"Oh my god--the past?--the _past_ , Severus? I'm talking about this, _this_ , here, now, this money--do you see it? Do you understand that this is now?"

"The money is just money, Harry--what's bothering you is where it came from, and yes, that is the past!"

"Oh, good, semantics! That's good! You win, Severus, very good."

"Stop it, Harry, you're not helping," Granger cut in, then she turned to Severus. "Harry needs an apology, Snape."

"And I need more money! And it's for you, anyway--"

"Snape!" Granger yelled, cutting him off. "Is Harry wrong to be upset about where that money came from?"

Severus couldn't believe that she wasn't understanding him. "I'm only using it because it's _necessary_ \--we need food--you need your items--"

"Snape!" Granger said again. "Is Harry wrong to be upset about where that money came from?"

"I CAN'T HELP WHERE THAT MONEY CAME FROM!" Severus bellowed.

"IS. HARRY. WRONG. To be upset about where that money came from?!"

"Stop asking me that!"

"YOU HAVEN'T ANSWERED MY QUESTION! IS HARRY WRONG?"

"OF COURSE HE ISN'T! Do you think that _I_ like where that money came from? Do you think that I _wanted_ to be reminded of my part in it? Of course not! But I can't CHANGE the past! I can't!" He found that he was addressing Harry now, who looked back at him with a wounded expression. "I made mistakes--I know it, you know it--I can't change it, Harry, but I can keep buying us food--is that not enough for you? Would it be better if I let that money moulder in the bottom of my bag while we starve?" He meant for the question to be cutting, but it sounded pleading and timid even to his own ears. He couldn't take any more; he fled the room.

He went to the bedroom that was his and pulled his wand as he shut the door behind him. He wanted to cast the most powerful secrecy spells he knew--wards and repulsion charms and--

\--And he knew he could risk none of it. He threw his wand across the room, where it hit the wall with a weak clatter. He hated the sound of it. His hands found a large candle in a heavy ceramic pot--that made a much better sound when he threw it against the wall. A lamp--an alarm clock--a telephone--framed pictures and knick-knacks--and then he pulled open a drawer from the bureau and flung its contents on the floor--pants and socks and hidden jewelry--and then he threw the empty drawer against the wall where it cracked the plaster even as it splintered. Destroying even as it was destroyed.

Much later that night, Harry's owl flew into Severus's open window. It landed on the overturned desk and looked at Severus. It was not carrying a note, and Severus was confused. He looked at it from where he sat on the floor, leaning against what was left of the bedframe.

The owl blinked, but didn't look away.

"I can't change what I am," Severus told it.

The owl tilted its head and blinked again.

"I can't change what I did," Severus said.

Was it possible for an owl to shrug its shoulders? He supposed it could be stretching its wings in a very odd manner.

"I can barely control what I do," Severus muttered.

The owl narrowed its eyes. It was unnerving.

"Can you wait for a moment?" Severus said, and without waiting for a response from the owl, he got to his feet and went over to where he knew he'd seen some paper and a Muggle pen, from where he'd dumped out the desk drawers.

The note was surprisingly easy to write. _Harry, I deeply regret the myriad ways I have wronged you. I did not intend to wrong you again as I have recently done--I should have consulted you about the financial situation before I acted._ He read it over, a bit surprised at himself for the note's forthrightness, but he found that he meant it. He left it unsigned and took it over to the owl. 

"Could you take this to Harry?" he asked.

The owl took the note and blinked at him again. Severus felt the chastisement. "Thank you," he said feebly, as the owl turned away and swooped out the window.

*

At two o'clock in the morning, Harry realised that he probably wasn't going to sleep that night. He quietly slipped out of the bed that he shared with Ron (they'd shared the same room for months, now, in every house they moved to, even if there were enough rooms for all of them--and Ron--thank goodness for Ron--Ron didn't act like it was weird), and walked to the window.

"You okay?" Ron mumbled, and Harry wondered if he was really awake.

"Yeah," Harry whispered.

"Mm," Ron said, and lifted his head. "You sure?"

"Yeah," Harry said, and Ron laid his head down. Harry stared at him, and felt so many questions bubbling up. "Ron," he breathed, as quietly as he could, "why aren't you repulsed by me?"

"What?" Ron said, still sounding muddled, and Harry was almost relieved that Ron didn't hear, but then Ron said, "Why aren't I _repulsed_ by you--what kind of a question is that?"

"It's nothing," Harry said quickly. "Never mind."

"Is this because of the money?" Ron said.

"No," Harry said quickly, then, "...kind of."

"'ts weird, innit?"

Harry's stomach sank. _Weird_ wasn't so far off from _freak_ , and this was what he'd been worried about--that even though Harry had _told_ Ron about what he'd done, it was different when you saw the actual money that someone had actually paid to have sex with you.

But then Ron kept talking. "That was all of the money, wasn't it? Snape never spent one knut. Makes you think he never really wanted it, after all."

Harry frowned, barely processing Ron's words, only knowing that it didn't sound like Ron thought he was a freak. "Why are you friends with me?"

"Why am I _friends_ with you? Harry, stop being weird."

"No--but--really--why?"

"Why _wouldn't_ I be friends with you? Why are you friends with me?"

"Aren't you worried that I'll...I dunno...try to kiss you or something?"

Ron lifted his head off the pillow again. "That's gross. Do you _want_ to kiss me?"

Harry wrinkled his nose. "Of course not. That's gross."

Ron flopped his head back down. "One more thing we agree on. Another reason we're friends."

Harry could only blink at Ron, who rolled away from Harry and let out a long breath.

And then Ron spoke again, his voice quiet and solemn. "I'll tell you a secret, but only if you swear never to tell another soul."

"Yeah, alright."

Ron rolled over again, this time facing Harry, and propped his head up on his arm. "When I was about six...Fred and George..." 

Harry could tell Ron's mouth had gone dry. He felt sick to his stomach. What had Fred and George done?

"Urgh," Ron said, and flopped down on his back. "I can see why you tend to punch the wall when you talk about things you'd rather forget."

"It's okay," Harry said quickly. "You don't have to tell me."

"It's nothing like--look, Fred and George made me eat Scabbers's poop. His actual little turds--they told me it was just like candy."

Harry was so shocked--and not a little disgusted--that he let out something that wasn't quite a laugh, but was close.

"I was six! I didn't know. I got so sick, and Mum tried potions and tinctures and nothing helped--and finally she asked Fred and George and they told her. They were grounded for--forever--I think they're probably still grounded from it."

"Euch."

"Yeah."

"Did you--like, _chew_ it?"

Ron shuddered. "I don't--I don't really remember. I remember it didn't taste good, but the twins insisted that the taste would improve."

"But Scabbers was really--"

"Yeah, don't think _that_ wasn't one of the first things I thought of when I found out."

"Euch."

"Yeah." Ron sniffed. "So which one of us has a more horrifying experience involving Peter Pettigrew?"

Harry considered this. "I think still me, actually."

"Yeah, probably," Ron said. "But you had to think about it."

Harry sniggered. "Yeah, even so, I'm not--I'm not eager to trade."

"Yeah. Did I tell you how sick I got? I've never been sicker in my life. I shat _water_."

Harry groaned and laughed at the same time.

"But Harry--that was absolutely Fred and George's fault, but I still feel stupid for what I did." He shrugged. "I ate rat poop."

Harry considered and discarded several possible responses.

Ron said, "And we never need to speak of this again."

"So mote it be."

"Exactly."

Harry still had no idea why Ron was friends with him. But he knew exactly why he was friends with Ron.

Ron fell asleep soon afterwards, leaving Harry staring out the bedroom window, still not sleepy at all. _I ate rat poop_ floated around his mind, and the easy way Ron had said it. _I was a whore_ didn't seem... _worse_ than that, just--

He didn't know what he felt. He _would_ have rather done it for free. Severus made that sound like an insult--but at the time, he thought he _was_ doing it for free, and he just--he just wished that he knew where he stood with the men in the room before. Before he--did what he did.

Nott had paid Lucius to have sex with Harry. And Severus was complicit. And Harry had walked into the room--with Lucius, and Nott, and Severus--and hadn't _known_. And he couldn't bear to think about what he'd _done_ , about how he'd enjoyed it--and know what it looked like to Nott, and Lucius.

And Severus.

_I ate rat poop._ Fred and George had told him it was candy.

It wasn't the same, at all. But it wasn't completely dissimilar.

It was just in a completely different category. Harry was pretty sure the money was still on the floor of the front room. It was like--it would be like if Ron was still shitting water, all these years later.

A light tapping on the window interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up and saw Hedwig with a note in her beak. Harry let her in and read the note, then stared at it blankly for ten full seconds. Then he quietly let himself out of his room and went to Severus's.

Severus opened his door warily.

"I don't want to use the money," Harry said firmly. "I'd rather starve."

Severus nodded. "Very well. I suggest we leave this house tomorrow," he said. 

Harry glanced at the splintered furniture in the bedroom and looked back at Severus. "Okay," he said, and walked away.

*

They left the house immediately after breakfast the next morning. Harry didn't know if Severus had cleaned the bedroom or repaired the furniture or not, but he did know for a fact that they left nearly nine hundred pounds on the floor of the front room. 

Their new home was in Chelsea and was nicer than any house they'd stayed in yet. Unfortunately, there was no games cupboard at all, but there was a drawer with one deck of cards. Severus was not in the mood for Whist, so Harry, Ron, and Hermione played Golf and talked in hushed voices about the diadem.

Ron and Hermione suggested places where the diadem could be hidden, each more outlandish than the last, but Harry thought it was at Hogwarts.

"Hogwarts?" Hermione said. "Where in Hogwarts?"

Harry didn't know, which he could admit was a problem.

" _Why_ in Hogwarts?" Ron asked.

"Because it makes sense," Harry said. But try as he may, he couldn't explain it so that it made sense to them. It was because Hogwarts was _Hogwarts_. And didn't Hagrid once say that the only place safer to hide something than Gringotts was Hogwarts? And didn't You-Know-Who already hide one Horcrux in Gringotts?

"But Harry," Hermione said, "I'm not saying that's wrong, but do you really think that Hagrid and You-Know-Who would share an opinion on anything?"

"Well--that's stupid. They might both like toast, right? --Besides, is it really an opinion? Where do you think is safer?"

"Think, Harry! Dumbledore was headmaster of Hogwarts for how long?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "And everyone knows You-Know-Who was always afraid of Dumbledore. Why would he hide a Horcrux under Dumbledore's nose?"

"Because it's _Hogwarts_ ," Harry said. 

But the others were unmoved.

*

The next day, Severus disappeared for a few hours and returned with a styrofoam box full of food. The food was rather posher than the sandwiches and apples they'd been eating--there was grilled chicken in a mushroom sauce, one meatball, steamed broccoli and carrots, a weird yellow rice that was very tasty, green beans with almonds in it--all thrown together and not really warm.

"Did you dig this out of a restaurant's trash?" Hermione asked with narrowed eyes.

"No," Severus said, and glanced at Harry. "I--found work. In a restaurant. They don't mind that I take home food if it's ruined."

"Ruined?" Ron asked, but Harry had already taken a bite of the broccoli. It had some sort of seasoning on it, and it was delicious. He reached for one of the baby carrots.

Severus's face tightened. "The chicken was overdone. The vegetables were overseasoned." He shrugged.

"What do you do there?" Hermione asked. "In the restaurant--what do you do?"

Severus glanced at Harry again. "Wash dishes," he said.

Harry stood up and walked over to Severus. "Thank you," he said. He wanted to touch Severus, to hug him--but the man looked quite overwhelmed. Harry just nodded and went back to the food.

Ron picked up the meatball and took a cautious bite. "What's wrong with the meatball?" he asked.

"It fell on the floor," Severus said, and swooped out of the room.

Ron paused in his chewing, then shrugged. "I've eaten worse," he said, and took another bite.


	22. The end

Severus's job at the restaurant was menial labour. He took it as punishment for his sins and was at first determined to use no magic at all when washing the dishes. This lasted until his second shift when he cut his hand--swollen and tender from being submerged in hot soapy water for hours on end--on the edge of a metal pan. It wasn't even a sharp edge. In the moment of surprise and pain, he did a Healing Charm without even thinking about it. Then he felt guilty for doing magic (despite the fact that absolutely no one in the kitchen was paying attention to him)--but the guilt passed quickly, and he cast an Impervious Charm on his hands before he put them back in the soapy water. And that was much better.

After a few weeks on the job, where he was largely ignored but allowed to take home whatever scraps were available, he came home late one night to find Harry, Weasley, and Granger waiting for him at the kitchen table. Granger said, "We need another house meeting."

"Of course we do," Severus said, but didn't sit down.

"We're at a standstill," Granger said, which wasn't worth a house meeting, in Severus's opinion. Nevertheless, the girl continued, "None of us has any idea where to find the diadem or how we're to gain access to the snake."

Harry muttered something, which was unusual in a house meeting.

Granger sighed and corrected herself. "None of us has a _good_ idea where to find the diadem. So unless You-Know-Who hid it in a Muggle house and we just happen upon it, we have to do something different or else we'll never complete our task."

"Well-reasoned, Miss Granger, thank you," Severus said. He took the styrofoam box he carried and tossed it casually on the table. "If there's anything else?"

"I think it's at Hogwarts," Harry blurted, and Weasley groaned.

Severus looked at Harry. "Hogwarts," he repeated flatly.

"Yeah yeah," Harry said. "It makes sense, doesn't it? It's such a magical place, and it's the first place Tom Riddle ever felt at home."

"Are you sure you're thinking of Tom Riddle?" Granger asked.

Harry scowled, but Severus wasn't interested in the psychology. " _Where_ , exactly, in Hogwarts do you suspect the diadem is hidden?"

Harry's face darkened and he looked away. "I...I don't suppose there are any loose floorboards in the Slytherin dormitories."

"Oh, come on," Weasley said. "Really? Harry? Are you _trying_ to make me take Hermione's side in this?"

"Well, where would _you_ hide something at Hogwarts?" Harry shot back.

"Under my mattress, like a sane person," Weasley said. "But I wouldn't leave it there after school was out."

Severus smirked, and Harry and Granger looked at Weasley with varying levels of horror and amusement. Weasley turned bright red. " _In theory_ , I mean," he said forcefully. "Merlin."

"I wouldn't hide anything at Hogwarts at all," Granger said.

"You don't understand!" Harry said. "You have a _place_ , you have somewhere else, of course you do--you'd hide it in your own home, wouldn't you?"

Granger blinked.

"Don't you get it? Tom never had that--if he hid something, he hid it at Hogwarts!"

"The Come and Go Room," Severus said, almost to himself. The children looked at him, and he cleared his throat. "The Come and Go Room. It's where I would hide something at Hogwarts." It was where he hid himself at Hogwarts, when he needed a place to get away--from Lucius, from Mulciber, from James Potter and his gang. He remembered the dusty, towering shelves and the almost overwhelming solitude--yes, he very easily could hide something precious there. "If the Dark Lord knew of it, he might have done so as well."

Harry looked stunned, as if he never expected to have an ally.

"You really think it's possible?" Granger asked.

Severus shrugged. "It's more likely there than in a Muggle home."

"But then, how would we get into Hogwarts?" Weasley asked. "The front door?"

"Narcissa Malfoy," Granger said. "As headmistress, she could let us in."

"Wait," Harry said. "What?"

"The headmistress has absolute authority over the school wards. She can let anyone in she pleases," Granger said, in her explaining tone.

"Narcissa Malfoy," Harry said.

"Yes, Harry," Granger said, with some exasperation.

"Narcissa Malfoy is the headmistress."

"Yes, it's been all over the _Prophet_ \--how do you not know?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because I haven't been--Wait. _You've_ been reading the _Prophet_?"

"Well, I wasn't taking delivery of it every morning just so you could use it to clean up Hedwig's droppings!"

Harry met this with a profound silence, then he said, "Have I really been cleaning up Hedwig's droppings with the _Prophet_?"

"Oh my god, Harry," Granger said. " _Yes._ Yes. I was giving them to you after I'd read them. I stopped a few weeks ago because I couldn't pay the subscription. Did you not even look at them?"

Harry looked at Weasley, who looked back and shrugged.

"You know what?" Granger said. "It's fine, it's fine--you're putting it to good use, for the most part, anyway--it's all propaganda and slander--but you would have at least known who the head of Hogwarts was. It's Narcissa Malfoy, by the way, and she might could help us get in." She looked at Severus, who sighed heavily.

"Yes, yes. By all means, let me ask Narcissa Malfoy to help us once again in our lonely quest. Perhaps I could save time, and ask her to bring along the Dark Lord's snake when we meet?"

"Honestly, that'd be great," Weasley said. "Or you could just leave her a Basilisk fang, in case the opportunity presents itself to her."

"Meanwhile, we could holiday in Barcelona," Harry said.

"Yes!" Weasley said. "Yes, and when we come back, all this You-Know-Who hullaballoo would be sorted."

Severus sighed again. He reached for the styrofoam container and pulled out an overcooked broccoli floret. "Cheers," he said, and turned around and left.

*

While Severus was gone to talk to Narcissa about entering Hogwarts, Harry waited in the front room of their current house with Ron and Hermione. Harry could not remember ever being more worried. He wasn't sure why--except that he deeply missed Hogwarts, and the Gryffindor common room and the dormitories, and the kitchens and the great hall and the classrooms and the Fat Lady--and the normalcy and the wonder, and the welcoming and the comfort...

And also he was more than a little worried that he just wanted to go back to Hogwarts for his own sake, and the diadem was never there, and he was leading all his friends into danger, just because he wanted to see Hogwarts again. And maybe Narcissa would see right through him and kill Severus--

But before Harry could work himself up too much, Severus came back to their house with Dobby. Severus looked a bit befuddled, but Dobby looked ecstatic. "Harry Potter, sir! Dobby is to be taking Harry Potter and his friends into Hogwarts any time they is wishing for it, sir! Headmistress Malfoy is insisting on it, Harry Potter sir! But it is a great secret, sir, that Harry Potter and his friends are to be visiting Hogwarts, and Dobby must not tell another soul, sir!"

"That's great, Dobby," Harry said.

"Is Harry Potter ready now, sir?"

"Er," Harry said, looking at Severus, who scowled back. "Ready for what?"

"To be going to Hogwarts, sir, for his top secret mission with his friends!"

"Er," Harry said again, and looked at Ron and Hermione, who shrugged and stood up in unison.

"No time like the present," Ron said.

"Yes, thank you very much for your help, Dobby," Hermione said.

And so they all found themselves standing in an empty corridor of Hogwarts, staring at a tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, giving ballet lessons to trolls. The other side of the corridor was a blank wall. Severus immediately started pacing in front of it.

"Is Harry Potter or his friends needing anything more of Dobby?" Dobby asked, in perfectly normal tones. His chipper voice seemed like the wrong thing for sneaking about the castle, but Harry supposed the castle was empty for the summer, after all. Severus pivoted and kept pacing.

Harry whispered back, "No thank you, Dobby, we're fine." He watched as Severus pivoted again, scowling furiously.

"If Harry Potter or his friends is needing anything, they can call Dobby and Dobby will help!"

And he disappeared with a loud _crack_.

Severus pivoted again and again, and a doorway suddenly formed in the blank wall.

"Cool," Ron whispered, and Severus scowled at him and gestured them all inside the room.

The room was massive; much bigger than the Great Hall. It must have been the size of Hogwarts itself--and it was full of junk. Shelves and shelves and piles and piles of junk. It smelled dusty, with more unpleasant notes. Once they were all in the room, Severus closed the door behind them, and the sound of the closing door was almost swallowed by the enormous space. Harry shuddered.

Severus said, "Lingering in the hallways of Hogwarts is not wise."

"Well, why didn't we just come straight in here, then?" Ron asked.

"The room does not exist until someone has need of it."

Ron looked at Harry and Hermione, then said, "But if we wanted to Apparate in here, wouldn't that mean that we needed it?"

This sounded very reasonable to Harry, but Severus said angrily, "That's not how it works, Weasley!" And before anyone could protest, Snape continued, "We need to start searching for the diadem."

Harry looked at the room again. "Should we split up?" It would be reasonable to split up. He just didn't like the thought of it.

"As you are the only one who knows what the diadem looks like, that would be inadvisable," Severus said.

"Oh," Harry said, and nodded. He looked at the room again. "Right, left, or straight?"

"Left," Hermione said.

"Right," Harry said, and Hermione glared at him. He blinked. "I mean, all right--like, yeah, left is good. Bugger."

And so they began searching through the massive piles of junk.

*

They searched for days. Dobby took them away from the castle at night and brought them back in the mornings. They finally reached the far wall of the room on the left side, and started making their slow way back to the doorway, following a different path through the junk. Harry was worried that the diadem had fallen behind something and they would never find it--or that they had passed it and he hadn't noticed because his eyes had glazed over and everything just started to look the same after all that time.

At least Hermione had devised a neat trick to mark their path through the room, so that when they came back in the mornings they knew where to start.

But still, Harry remained pessimistic. "We've been at this for over a week," he said to Ron one morning just after they woke up. "And we're not getting anywhere."

Ron sighed. "Mate, today will be the fourth day, if you count Tuesday as whole day, even though we didn't start until the afternoon."

That couldn't be right. That would mean that they'd only been searching for three days. "The _fourth_ day? Are you sure?"

"Yes," Ron said. "Today is Friday. We started Tuesday. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday...Friday," he said, holding up a finger for each day.

Harry paused. "Tuesday this week?" he asked.

Ron groaned and punched Harry on the arm. "Don't make it worse than it is."

"Do you think it's in there?" Harry asked quietly.

"I don't think You-Know-Who could come up with a better hiding place, really."

"Do you think we'll find it?"

Ron didn't answer.

*

In truth, Ron wasn't hopeful. He'd been thinking about the room, and how the magic of it worked--how it had to work and how it couldn't work. As they searched the endless shelves that morning, he lagged behind with Snape and said, "How do you conjure the room?"

"What?" Snape asked, as he dumped the contents of a burlap sack on the floor. It was full of letters and pictures.

"Every morning when we get here," Ron said. "You pace in front of the wall, and conjure the door. How do you do it?"

"I don't 'conjure' the door. I _need_ the room, and so the room appears. Along with the door."

"You need it?"

Snape kicked at the papers at his feet and said, "Yes, Weasley."

"So, you think about what you need, and the door appears?"

Snape focused his full attention on Ron, and Ron focused on not flinching. "I believe that's what I just said," Snape said.

"What do you think about needing, exactly?" Ron asked.

Snape blinked. "A place to hide something."

Ron sighed. "That's probably what You-Know-Who needed, so that's fair. But we need something slightly different, don't we?"

"The magic of the room...it tends to know what we need even if we don't know it ourselves."

"But then--"

"Don't say it, Weasley," Snape said harshly, and wiped his face.

Ron narrowed his eyes. "Better to face it than to waste our time. Do you think we've even searched a quarter of the room yet?"

Snape's shoulders sagged.

"Maybe the room can't provide us with something it doesn't have," Ron continued. "Or maybe...Harry needs to conjure the room."

Snape looked at Ron sharply.

"Just a thought," Ron said, and shrugged. "He's got a better idea of what we need."

And so it was not long after that that they all stepped out of the Come and Go Room. All they had to do--according to Snape--was to let the door close behind them, and back off and let Harry pace in front of the blank wall, thinking about needing the diadem Horcrux. If all went according to plan, a door would form, and it would lead to a room that contained the diadem Horcrux. It was simple and it seemed like very little could go wrong.

But instead, they stepped into the hall, and the door closed behind them and vanished, and Harry had just started pacing, when a high, cold voice called out, "What are you doing here?"

Ron barely had time to turn--barely had time to register that _You-Know-Who_ was in the corridor--and had clearly spotted them--and he had his snake!--when You-Know-Who said, " _Avada Kedavra_!"

They all hit the floor and the curse sailed over them, hitting the back wall and blasting out a sizeable hole. You-Know-Who worked his jaw and seemed to rethink his strategy, dropping his wand to his side. Ron didn't think this made him look any less threatening, though.

You-Know-Who said, "I ask again, what are you doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing here?" Harry spat out as he picked himself up off the floor.

The snake hissed, and Harry hissed back. A look of fury crossed You-Know-Who's face, and he slashed his hand--not even the one holding his wand!--but Harry quickly shouted, " _Protego_!" Whatever spell You-Know-Who had cast bounced off Harry's shield.

But then You-Know-Who started talking as if the exchange never happened. "I was just at Hogwarts, to discuss some policy changes for the upcoming school year. I like to stroll the halls, so here I am. Your turn."

For a mad moment, Ron thought Harry might say anything--might say _We're here to destroy your Horcrux_ \--

But instead, Ron heard an inhuman yell as Snape-- _Snape_ \--rushed forward--Ron saw he had a basilisk fang gripped in his hand--Snape--yelling the whole time--rushed to the snake and fell upon it, driving the fang deep into its skull, killing it.

There was a stunned moment that seemed to last forever. _Snape had killed the snake._ With a basilisk fang. YOU-KNOW-WHO WOULD _KNOW_.

"Shit," Ron breathed--

\--" _PROTEGO!"_ Harry screamed--

\--and You-Know-Who roared so that the very walls shook with his anger--

\--Harry ran forward--

\--What?--Ron tried to stop him but Harry was already gone--out of his reach--

\--"Harry!" Hermione yelled--

\--" _AVADA KEDAVRA_!" You-Know-Who yelled again, but his wand was pointing down at Snape--on the floor--with the dead snake--

\--But Harry got there first, between You-Know-Who and Snape, his own wand raised, and yelled, " _NO!"_ \--

\--And that wasn't a spell. That wasn't a spell at all. But white light shot out of Harry's wand and met the green Killing Curse from You-Know-Who's wand, and then the two of them seized up--and what happened next was so odd that Ron didn't know what to think. 

The two wands--Harry's and You-Know-Who's--were joined together by a golden thread of light. A song filled the corridor--a haunting song, a rousing song--a song that made Ron want to run and fight and cry, all at once. He couldn't help but think of everyone he'd ever loved--some of whom he'd lost, like his dad--and some of whom were with him in this corridor, like Hermione and Harry. The song seemed to come from everywhere.

You-Know-Who grunted, and Harry whimpered.

Ron moved forward, and next to him, Hermione did the same. But Harry and You-Know-Who were surrounded by the same golden light that connected their wands, and it kept anyone from getting too close. "Fight him, Harry!" Hermione called.

The light between the wands bubbled and grew, and it swelled toward Harry's wand. "No! Harry! Fight him!" Ron called, not wanting to know what would happen if the bubbling light touched Harry's wand. Harry seemed to think the same thing, and the light slowed, and stopped, then started slowly moving away from Harry. Toward You-Know-Who. Who looked genuinely scared. (The song--the song still rang in the corridor, making Ron brave, making him happy, making him scared, making him sad.) As the light got closer to You-Know-Who, it slowed, and slowed, and slowed...but still--slowly, slowly, slowly, got closer to his wand. Ron couldn't see from where he stood--surely the light had touched his wand by now--but surely something would have happened if it did?--And then something did happen.

You-Know-Who crumpled to the floor and instantly the song was gone, the light was gone, and Harry stood there, holding his wand and panting.

Ron blinked. You-Know-Who's body didn't move. Ron stepped over to it, gingerly. You-Know-Who's eyes were open, and he looked slightly surprised. Ron stared for a few moments, then nudged the body with his foot.

It wobbled, but didn't move on its own. Ron nudged it again, harder.

"Yeah?" Hermione said quietly. She was right next to him, somehow.

"I think so, yeah," Ron said. He knelt down and reached out to feel for a breath. Nothing. He still wasn't sure, but--

"Don't get any closer," Hermione said, and Ron agreed. They turned to look at Harry, who looked stunned.

"But, we didn't..." Hermione said.

"Shit," Harry said, in a very small voice. "Did that just happen?"

"Harry," Hermione said, sounding slightly panicked for the first time since they stepped in the corridor, which seemed weird to Ron--but then, nothing was making a lot of sense right now. "Harry," Hermione said again, still panicky, "I don't understand what the fuck just happened, but we _need_ to find the diadem."

Harry blinked. "Did you--did you just say 'fuck'?"

But Hermione's other words started to make sense to Ron. "The diadem!" he said. "If he's still got a Horcrux--"

But then, from behind Harry, Snape started to laugh. It made Ron jump; it sounded unhinged, hysterical.

Also, _Snape was laughing_.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, still sounding very shrill.

But Snape was engrossed in his own arm. His sleeve was rolled up, and he was touching the skin there, still laughing. When he noticed them staring, he held his arm out for them to see.

It just looked like an arm to Ron. Harry said, "But what does that mean?"

And Ron didn't know. But they were standing the the middle of Hogwarts, where _Narcissa Malfoy_ was headmistress, and You-Know-Who was--maybe--dead in the corridor with them, and _they still hadn't destroyed the diadem_ which meant that You-Know-Who was probably not really dead in the corridor with them, and Hermione was scared and Snape was laughing at his own arm and Harry seemed a little unhinged--and Ron could really identify with just about all of that right now, but _now was not the time_.

"Harry," Ron said with authority, and took him by the arm and dragged him back to the part of the wall right across from the tapestry. "Think of the diadem--shit--we need to get it _now_ , Harry."

Harry blinked rapidly and looked at Ron. "Shit--the diadem," he said.

" _Yes_. If there's still a Horcrux--"

"Shit," Harry said again, and pushed Ron away and started pacing in front of the wall with furious concentration.

But the door would not appear. Harry tried several times, with the same results.

Snape had sobered by this time, and said, "Try to get to the Room of Hidden Things."

Harry was able to conjure that door, and they stepped in to same enormous room as before. Ron groaned.

"No, it's bound to be better," Hermione said. "Because the room is here for Harry's needs, and Harry still needs the diadem! He should be able to find it!"

"Right," Harry said, and turned on the spot, looking intently. Weirdly, Ron held his breath as he watched, as if he thought that Harry would find it immediately.

"Hermione," Harry said slowly. "What if it's not here?"

Ron let out his breath.

"It's here, you just have to find it," Hermione said.

Harry rounded on her. "But--you said--You said it yourself! You tried to say it wasn't at Hogwarts, it was a stupid hiding place!"

"That was _before_ You-Know-Who came strolling through the corridor! Harry! Why _this_ corridor? There is _nothing_ here--unless You-Know-Who _put something here_."

"Shit," Ron said. "It's got to be here." He turned and looked--shit!--just there!--the diadem!--or at least a tiara of some sort. He grabbed it and said, "Is this it?"

Harry barely glanced at it. "No," he said.

"There!" Hermione said, just as Snape said, "Here!"

They each showed their finds to Harry, who shook his head. Suddenly, wherever Ron looked, he saw a crown or a diadem or a tiara. Hermione and Snape noticed the same thing.

"Shit," Snape said. "The Room wants to help us."

"But it can't," Harry said flatly. "It's not here."

"Dobby!" Snape called, and the elf appeared immediately. "Who else has been to this Room?"

Dobby shrank back slightly at his tone. "The room appears to anyone who has need of it, Mister Snape sir."

"So, who has needed it?"

"Whoever has been using it, sir."

Snape looked enraged at this, but Ron cut in. "Dobby--we left a bit of a mess in the hall just outside of here. Could you clean it up--keep it somewhere safe, keep an eye on it--and not tell anyone about it?"

"Certainly, Mister Ron Weasley sir. Dobby is happy to be helping." And the elf disappeared with a pop.

They all looked at each other. "Okay, what do we know and where do we go from here?" Ron asked.

"The diadem was here," Hermione said.

"It's not here anymore," Harry said.

"The Dark Lord is dead," Snape said. "His Mark is gone." He held out his arm again, and pushed up his sleeve and looked at it.

"Was it like that the last time?" Harry asked. "When I was a baby?"

Snape locked eyes with Harry and shook his head.

"What does that mean?" Harry asked.

Snape shook his head again. "There was no body the last time, either. Maybe this time is different because he has only one Horcrux remaining? Or maybe somebody already destroyed the diadem?"

"We would need to find out who," Hermione said.

They looked around the room again. Ron saw three more crowns. He sighed and sat down cross-legged on the floor. Harry sat down, too, then frowned and pulled something out from under him. It looked like someone's crumpled old History essay. Harry looked at it and laughed. "You'll never believe this," he said. "It's Neville's."

*

They called Dobby to take them to Longbottom Heights. At first, the elf's ears sagged as he informed them that he couldn't find Longbottom Heights, and Severus remembered the Fidelius and felt a moment of despair, but then he felt a curious feeling of triumph followed by a more solid despair, when he remembered that any one of them could share the secret, because Dumbledore was dead. "The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix are located at Longbottom Heights," he told Dobby heavily, and the elf nodded and promptly took them to the front door.

Augusta Longbottom was a more than a bit surprised to see them all, but she ushered them into the sitting room and called in her grandson.

Neville seemed intimidated by the presence of Severus, but he told his story easily enough.

It seemed that sometime during the month of March, Neville Longbottom had found himself in the corridors of Hogwarts, in want of a place of sanctuary. He found the Come and Go Room. It was much smaller for him--just some chairs and a desk and a fireplace--but he went back to the room again and again over the months that followed. One day while he was in the room, he thought about how he needed to do more than hide. He needed to help Harry and his gran and everyone. He needed to help defeat You-Know-Who.

He had no sooner thought this than he noticed a delicate crown sitting in the corner of the room.

"What did it look like?" Harry interrupted.

"It was silver," Neville said. "It was pretty tarnished, but it had a lot of curlicues and a big green gem. It said 'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure.'"

"What did you do with it?"

He had taken it back to Gryffindor, and in a stroke of luck, he showed it to Ginevra Weasley. Miss Weasley recognised it for what it was right away, and understood that they needed to get rid of it. They tried a few things unsuccessfully, but Miss Weasley knew of only one way that would work. They tried to take it to the Chamber of Secrets, but Miss Weasley was unable to open the secret passageway in the girls' bathroom on the second floor. So instead, the pair took the diadem back to the Come and Go Room, because they needed a way to destroy the Horcrux. A door opened in the wall, and behind it was a long spiral staircase, leading them down, down, down into the bowels of Hogwarts, and into the Chamber of Secrets. They found the basilisk skeleton, and Miss Weasley took a fang and drove it right through the gem of the diadem.

"You destroyed it?" Severus asked.

"W--Well, Ginny did," Neville stammered.

"How do you know it was destroyed?"

"Er--it, ah--it smoked. And kind of...screamed at us."

"Where is it now?" Severus demanded.

"W-we didn't want to bring it with us--and it felt wrong to leave it just sitting there, so I-I...vanished it." The last bit was barely audible, and it was followed by a profound silence.

Granger broke it. "Mixie's pixies?" she said, sounding unsure.

"Mixie's pixies," Weasley said firmly.

Severus sat back in his chair. And started to laugh.


	23. Grief and recovery are, unfortunately, not linear

# PART V: The Aftermath

Chapter 23: Grief and recovery are, unfortunately, not linear

_YOU-KNOW-WHO FOUND DEAD AT HOGWARTS  
NARCISSA MALFOY HAILED AS HERO_

by rita skeeter

 _The body of You-Know-Who was found in the office of Headmistress Narcissa Malfoy late Friday evening. Aurors discovered the body after being summoned to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry by Mrs Malfoy. The Aurors on the scene reported that the body showed no signs of distress, and therefore a Killing Curse is the suspected cause of death. Mrs Malfoy was not available for interview, but Auror Dawlish commented on the record that no charges would be pressed against her, as there was no evidence to incriminate her. "Her wand was clean," Auror Dawlish insisted when pressed. "And that's that." When asked if anyone checked Mrs Malfoy for any other wands she may have used, Auror Dawlish replied that "Mrs Malfoy has no other wands registered to her."_

_This raises more questions than it answers. What was You-Know-Who even doing at Hogwarts School? Auror Dawlish had no comment. The Hogwarts Board of Governors have maintained that You-Know-Who had no influence over policy decisions, even though the same governors revoked admittance to Muggle-born students immediately after the death of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. Long-time readers will remember that this policy change caused quite a bit of confusion, as it was announced with no warning, during the middle of term._

_Whatever the Board of Governors claim, it seems very likely that You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts to make direct changes to school policy._

_And what of Headmistress Malfoy's role in the intrigue? She positioned herself as a political neutral after the disappearance of her husband and son, in late 1994 or early 1995. But on Friday night, sources close to the_ Prophet _reported seeing Mrs Malfoy dining with that same missing husband and son in the Duck and Coven, a high-end establishment in Hogsmeade._

_What can this mean? Mrs Malfoy's husband, Lucius, was a well-known supporter of You-Know-Who during the 1970's and 80's. More recently, Lucius was a prominent figure in high-society functions and was often seen in the company of the Minister for Magic and foreign dignitaries. His disappearance was conspicuous but his return is even more so, as it follows immediately after the death of such a politically influential person._

_It is not too far-fetched to believe that Mrs Malfoy, when confronted with You-Know-Who and another potential policy change that would be detrimental to Hogwarts students, simply snapped and killed him. Or perhaps she had deeper motivations, such as missing her husband and son. Indeed, we may never know._

_In a separate but certainly related development, Harry Potter and Severus Snape both made a dramatic reappearance in Diagon Alley on Friday afternoon. The two were spotted in a large group at Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlour. This is the first time the two have been seen since the murder of Headmaster Dumbledore._

_It seems that You-Know-Who's death has caused the reappearances of many witches and wizards who were forced into hiding. While there remain a large minority of people who agreed with the politics of You-Know-Who, even among his supporters there were many who questioned his more audacious stances. And all of Wizarding Britain seems to be breathing a collective sigh of relief. In the words of Auror Dawlish, "Whoever got rid of You-Know-Who, I'd like to shake that person's hand."_

_This reporter did indeed see Auror Dawlish shaking the hand of Mrs Malfoy as he departed Hogwarts school late Friday night._

"I'm glad this doesn't mention the two of us," Ron said, "but at the same time--they're giving all the credit to _Narcissa Malfoy_?"

"It not exactly unfair," Hermione pointed out, and went on reading the _Prophet_.

"I think it's great," Harry said, and took a bite of toast.

It was Saturday morning at the Burrow, and even though Mum was bustling around more than she usually did, everything felt strangely normal to Ron. He'd spent the night in his own room, with Harry sleeping on the cot next to him, and Hermione just downstairs, rooming with Ginny. Breakfast was toast and eggs and sausages. Maybe later they'd play some two-a-side Quidditch in the orchard. It was summer hols like summer hols should have always been.

Except for one notable exception. Ron had been away for so long himself that he hadn't got used to his dad's absence. He kept waiting for Dad to come to breakfast, or kiss Mum goodbye on his way to work--and Ron would realise with a jolt that his dad was dead and would never do any of those things ever again.

He had known this before, of course. It had just been easier to ignore when he wasn't at the Burrow.

"It says here that Narcissa is going to remain at Hogwarts as headmistress," Hermione said, still reading the paper. "And that they're going to open enrollment back up to Muggle-borns." She huffed. "They're not really apologising for kicking out Muggle-borns in the first place, but they are admitting that 'the policy was a bit extreme.' A _bit_ extreme? Quite a concession, that."

"Wait," Ron said, as the thought occurred to him. "You mean to go back to Hogwarts?"

"Well of course!" Hermione said, and then she laughed a little cruelly, but not spitefully, like only Hermione could. "Did you think you wouldn't go back, after leaving school at sixteen, and not even getting your O.W.L.s?"

Mum, who had just sat down at the table with a cup of coffee, said, "Of course Ron is going back to Hogwarts in September. Harry, too."

Ron looked at Harry, who looked back at him, alarmed. Ron said, "But--do you have to sit your O.W.L.s to get into the N.E.W.T.-level classes, or..." the alternative was even worse. He swallowed past the dryness in his throat. "Or, do you have to repeat fifth year?"

Hermione waved her hand. "Not at all. They've always made exceptions and let students in to N.E.W.T. classes without their O.W.L.s. Remember second year, when they cancelled all exams?"

"Oh," Ron said, and looked at Harry, who shrugged.

"Hogwarts forever," Harry said without enthusiasm.

"I'm sure it will only _feel_ like that," Ron said bracingly.

*

Harry saw Severus only once more during his summer at the Burrow. Their conversation had been awkward and far more public than Harry would have liked; Molly had insisted that Severus come to the Burrow to answer some of her questions, and then insisted that he stay for dinner. He sat next to Harry, who burned with one enormous question: _What now?_ He managed to ask it over pudding.

"Now we part," Severus said quietly.

"What if I want to see you again?" Harry asked fiercely, but just as quietly.

Severus gave him a long look and said, "Come find me after your seventeenth."

His seventeenth birthday--31 July, 1997. Just about a year away. Harry wasn't counting the days, exactly. But he was acutely aware of the passage of time.

Soon Harry found himself back at Hogwarts for the start of his sixth year. He was not enthusiastic, but he had no other plans, and so he defaulted to doing whatever Ron and Hermione were doing. He took all the classes he could with Ron: Charms, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Herbology. Ron and Hermione also took Potions, but Harry dropped the subject when he learned that Slughorn was teaching it.

He was also automatically enrolled in a class called Wizarding Heritage, and Ron was enrolled in Muggle Studies. It was because of a new policy that Narcissa Malfoy insisted that the Board of Governors adopt. Wizarding Heritage wasn't a terrible class--they read a lot of short stories and talked about things Harry never knew--about everything from the distillation of pumpkin juice to Gringotts etiquette. And Harry was in the class with Hermione, who actually asked a lot of good questions. During one particularly interesting class, they learned about why the charms on school brooms wore off so quickly. (The charms interacted with whatever runes were used, and then there was a complex arithmatic equation which related the effectiveness of directional charms to the number of unique riders on a broom and the average duration of each broom ride. It was the first time Harry had ever seen any purpose to arithmancy.) The whole subject was fascinating--and when everyone had to write an essay over a topic of their own choosing, Harry chose to write about repairing malfunctioning brooms.

But on the whole, the school year was refreshingly boring. There was still Quidditch, which was great--especially since Ginny was playing Chaser. Then there were classes and homework and meals in the Great Hall--but no plots on Harry's life, and no secrets about his past to be revealed--not so much as an article about him in the _Prophet_.

Even Draco Malfoy, who returned for his sixth year as well, just seemed like another bloke in Harry's Transfiguration class. Early in the year, Ron accidentally bumped into Draco's desk just after Draco had conjured a delicate glass vase. The vase fell on the floor and shattered, and Ron was terribly embarrassed and tried to repair it, but Draco just sighed and Vanished it.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy," Ron said.

"It's fine, Weasley," Draco said, and simply conjured another vase.

Ron went back to his desk and spent the rest of class staring at Draco's head. At the end of class, Ron made Harry and Hermione stay with him in the corridor, waiting for Draco to appear. When he did, Ron said, "I really am sorry, Malfoy. Everything okay?"

Draco frowned at him and said nothing. Ron glanced at Harry with raised eyebrows. Harry shrugged.

Ron said, "Honestly, Malfoy. I would have thought at least that you would say, 'My mother will be hearing about this!'"

Draco snorted. "Have you met my mother, Weasley? If I told her you bumped my table, it would be _my_ arse in detention for being a crybaby."

Ron laughed. "New regime, new rules?"

Draco cocked his head. "It's not all for the worse. Granger. Potter. Weasley." He gave them each tiny little bows, and then walked away.

"Wow," Hermione said, and Ron and Harry had nothing to add.

Harry occasionally wrote letters to Severus, sending them with Hedwig. She always came back without a reply, but Harry didn't expect any different. He also kept a particular silver sickle with him at all times, just in case. But it never heated up with a message. Harry never sent a message that way himself--he was almost sure that if he did, only Ron and Hermione would read it.

But he kept the sickle with him. Just in case.

He spent the Christmas holidays at the Burrow, and then the Easter holidays as well. With the approach of summer holidays, though, Harry felt terribly awkward about his future plans. Was he expected back at Privet Drive? It had been nearly two years since he had spoken with the Dursleys, and he wasn't eager to break the silence by asking them if he still had a bedroom at their house. So instead he did the slightly less awkward thing and asked Ron if he could stay at the Burrow.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron said with a scowl. "That you still think you have to ask _permission_ , Jesus Christ, Harry, stop being weird. You're coming home to the Burrow. Jesus Fuck."

Harry blinked. "Is Muggle Studies helping with your vocabulary, then?" he managed to ask with a straight face.

Ron punched him in the shoulder.

*

Severus didn't quite know what to do with himself after the death of the Dark Lord. He hadn't planned on surviving, and indeed there had been a few moments when his death seemed inevitable and fitting--but then Harry swooped in and ruined Severus's heroic demise. So now, for his unexpected denouement, Severus moved back to Spinner's End. To his surprise, no one had burned it or ransacked it during his long absence. Unfortunately, this did not improve the ambiance of the place. Perhaps his enemies had come here, and then left secure in the knowledge that Spinner's End by itself was worse than anything they could do to it.

He didn't much care. He told himself that Spinner's End was at least as welcoming as the dungeons of a medieval castle, and set about the task of turning the kitchen into a potions lab.

He first needed money, so he contacted Narcissa--using an ordinary post owl, for once. She gladly loaned him some of her Black inheritance (at a reasonably low interest rate), and awarded him a contract for brewing for the Hogwarts hospital wing.

Thanks to glowing recommendations from Narcissa, by his birthday he was supplying potions to Slug and Jiggers, as well as several smaller apothecaries throughout Britain. In March, he landed a major contract with St Mungo's without any assistance from Narcissa, and in April he was able to pay off her loan entirely.

The lab in the kitchen slowly took over the entire house. The kitchen had enough counterspace for four separate brewing stations. Severus converted the den into a large storage room for common ingredients. He kept the more volatile ingredients in the smaller bedroom upstairs under heavy wards. He converted the larger bedroom into a reference room, making bookcases out of old doors and bedframes and cinderblocks. The aesthetic suited him.

After dismantling his own bed to make the bookcases, he slept on the sofa in the supply room, formerly the den.

He did all of this, and tried not to think of Harry. "What if I want to see you again?" Harry had asked. Severus had to remind himself that Harry was barely sixteen. He didn't look it; he was all knowing looks and hard features. During their long search for Horcruxes, Severus had been preoccupied with their mission and with the near-constant reminders of his own betrayal of Harry. And, yes, Granger and Weasley had been there the entire time, which made everything feel a bit too much like a classroom for Severus to really feel his attraction to Harry.

But he was attracted to Harry.

Severus told himself he could wait until after Harry's seventeenth birthday--a meaningless milestone, as Harry had already passed the age of consent. But he told himself that after such a long wait there could be only two outcomes: either Harry would forget about Severus and move on, or Harry would return to Severus, freed of the ghost of his own twisted and abusive childhood.

Severus tried to convince himself he was content with either outcome. Meanwhile, he kept brewing and tried not to let his heart leap into his throat every time Harry's owl showed up with a letter. He read the letters jealously and repeatedly, but never replied. If Harry came back to him on his birthday, Severus wanted to be sure it was Harry's decision alone, not because of anything he said to influence it.

*

There was a knock on Severus's door in the morning on 31 July. Severus checked the time--it was just before eight o'clock. He was still in his dressing gown. He hadn't even had time to get properly nervous about the date. He tried to tamp down all of his hopes and expectations in the time it took him to cross the room and answer the knock.

It was Harry.

"You don't waste time, do you Potter?" Severus said, drily. Because his mouth was dry.

"Why didn't you ever write me back?" Harry asked.

Severus blinked at him. Harry was still thin, but had more muscle than he had the last time Severus had seen him. He had new glasses. His skin was darker. He looked healthier, and also very, very handsome. But still quite young.

"Severus?"

"Hm?"

Harry's expression was guarded. "Why didn't you ever write me back?" he asked again.

"It's of no consequence now," Severus rasped. "It's good to see you, Harry."

"Can I--can I come in?"

Severus gripped the door and looked away. He'd been foolish to think that a calendar year would change anything. Harry might have been a legal adult, but he was still a schoolboy. Ridiculously, Severus thought of Geoffrey Wheelin and his frayed trousers. Wasn't there a lesson there?

"No," he said firmly.

"What?" Harry asked.

"No, I'd rather you not come in," Severus said.

"Why not?"

Severus blinked again, bewildered. How could he possibly explain himself? In uncharted waters, he opened his mouth and spoke.

"If you come inside, I will fuck you," he said. He felt himself flushing, and didn't feel better about it when Harry grinned.

"If you fuck me, we will both come inside," he said.

In Severus's opinion, that was not an appropriate joke, nor was this an appropriate time to be making it. He moved to close the door, but Harry reached out to stop him.

"Wait," Harry said.

Severus's brain screamed at him to force the door closed, but his arm was not cooperating.

"Do you hate me that much, Severus?" Harry was much too close, now. Severus's breaths came in pants.

"I don't hate you," he said, and tried to keep his voice firm. "You complete imbecile," he added, for form and for accuracy.

"But you don't want to fuck me," Harry said.

Severus scoffed. "Not wanting to fuck you is not the same as hating you." He locked eyes with Potter before he continued. "Sex is not the same as love. We've been over this ground, Harry."

Harry took a step back, much to Severus's relief.

"Do they have to be so different, though?" Harry asked, scowling. "If I want to fuck you, it doesn't mean I hate you, Snape."

"But when I want to fuck you, I hate myself." The words were perfectly accurate and Severus was almost glad that he had put his all of his feelings, all of them, into so few words.

But then he saw the look on Harry's face.

"Wow," Harry said, taking another step back. "Okay."

"Harry..."

"No, no, I see. I understand." He nodded and backed up another step. "Happy birthday to me, welcome to adulthood, yeah." He tried to smile.

"Harry--"

"No, no," Harry said again, and turned away. "Thanks for everything, Snape. Thanks for being honest." And he Disapparated before Severus could say another word.

It felt foreboding and final and Severus didn't like it at all. He agonised over writing a letter, composing many drafts, finally sending the following:

Harry,

I didn't mean for you to leave so abruptly. I meant what I said, but I don't think you heard what I meant. Repeating it in print will probably not clarify anything for either of us. So let me say this: I look at you, and I see someone so young, someone still in school, and I cannot allow myself to want you. After everything, we are still on unequal footing.

I need you to understand this. I need you to have a future, to have plans for yourself and your career. I need to know that when you fully become a man, you come into yourself without me tainting your choices. If you still want me after all of that, then perhaps I can be sure that I didn't ruin you. Then maybe I can be sure that I am really--

Yours,  
Severus

Harry didn't respond to the letter. In fact, Severus didn't hear from Harry at all until November, when Harry sent him the longest letter he'd ever got:

Dear Severus,

I had sex with Draco Malfoy last week. I hope this upsets you, honestly--it upsets me, and I don't know why, really.

I didn't really plan to have sex with him? We went out to Hogsmeade--I suppose it was a date, but I wasn't thinking that at the time. He's so formal, and everything was odd, and he kissed me afterwards, and he took me to a hidden alcove in the dungeons and sucked me off and then fucked me, and I didn't stop him. I suppose I enjoyed it on some level, anyway--it's been a long time since I've had sex--but shit, everything is complicated. I don't trust my body at all, you know--and then I don't know if it matters that I kissed him back? That I came before he did?

Or--that Draco Malfoy has fucked me before, when his father dressed me up in Polyjuice and gave me to him--after Lucius got you to agree to the plan, after that whole shitstorm with Avery--and where was my choice in all of that? I remember wanting to have sex with Draco back then--or at least, not being wholly opposed to the idea--but if things had been different--what would I have done back then? Would anal sex have even occurred to me?

Snape, I was fourteen.

So, I'm seventeen now, much more worldly and aware--and I recently had sex with Draco, but did I want to? I got all weird after it was over, and Draco got all weird, too--I'm not sure who got weird first, honestly--but that was last week, and since then we've been avoiding each other--pretty successfully--but today Draco pulled me aside and apologised and told me that he owed me an explanation.

I hope you can see where this is going. Writing it down, it seems obvious--but at the time, I had no idea. But I hope you feel proper dread about what Draco wanted to explain.

He told me that he's fancied me for years--and that he knows it's fucked up and he hopes that I can forgive him--but when he was fourteen, his father actually hired a prostitute--and he hopes that I know that he knows that that is unacceptable behaviour, but it was his dad's idea and--

Well, he told me what I already knew about how he lost his virginity.

He told me that he knew it was vulgar, and a complete debasement of another human being, as well as a violation of my person--to sneak some of my hair for a Polyjuice potion--and how awful he felt, for how terribly he behaved--

And I hit him. In the jaw. And walked away. 

The thing is, Snape, that I...didn't even think about what happened with Draco all of those years ago--I didn't think of that as...anything more than a lark. It was nice; he fucked me; I came; I didn't feel terribly used or abused.

Sex is so messed up--how can I explain this? For years, I told myself that it was simple--but then I learned--and keep learning--what other people were thinking when they fucked me. What they paid to fuck me. How they thought it was vulgar to fuck me. Or how it makes them hate themselves.

Where does that leave me, Snape? When there was this one time that a boy my own age fucked me, and it was nice for me, and kind of even fun--but now he's so horrified that he violated both me and the prostitute--and he doesn't even know that I was the prostitute--

And then I think about you, and how you fit into all of this, and how you made sure to fuck me before you gave me to Draco, and then again afterwards--at the time, I thought it showed something like love, Snape.

And even here, I'm lost. Do I want to hate you for everything? Obviously, yes. Do I want you to grovel and scrape and apologise to me? Obviously yes. Do I think it would be easier if you died? Honestly, yes. But, most of all--do you know what I want most of all? I want you to whisper in my ear that I'm a good boy, and tie me up and fuck me and use me in every way you want, and just let me know that I fucking matter. Did I ever matter to you, Snape?

\--H.

Severus had no idea what to do with such a letter. When he read it, he felt himself going empty and cold. He had been pretending that he and Harry could overcome their past. That they could one day be free to love each other.

What, even, was love? It couldn't be whatever Harry felt. Whatever Harry felt had been so twisted and perverted by himself that it was not to be trusted.

Severus didn't want to think about it. He busied himself with brewing.

Three weeks later, he got another letter:

Dear, dear Severus,

I just want you to know that I cornered Draco after class today and demanded that he fuck me again. My arse is still sticky with his come. I'll try this again tomorrow. I suspect Draco will be amenable.

\--H.

Severus burned that letter. Things got worse in January:

Hey you,

I asked Draco if he knew any other gay blokes, and if he was into group sex. He seemed a bit pole-axed, but he recovered well. I told him I wanted to be tied up and used. We arranged it today--he brought along two of his Slytherin friends--I wonder if you can guess which ones? Draco insisted on a safe word--a safe word\--he had to explain it to me--but it didn't matter. His friends tied me up and slapped me and whipped me, and fucked me at both ends and came in me and on me and made me eat it. When they finished, Draco sent them away, then healed my cuts and bruises and cleaned me up, then said that he didn't like what they did.

I told him I didn't either.

You know me better than that, though. Don't you? You made me better than that. It's been a long time since my body felt that alive.

\--H.

In February:

Severus,

Are you even reading these?

Yesterday was a Hogsmeade weekend. I told Draco I had a lot of homework, and then I snuck out of the castle with Theodore Nott. He has a Ravenclaw friend named Carrow, whose name sounded familiar, anyway. We Apparated to Carrow's house. Carrow has an uncle that you may remember, named Rosier. I didn't remember him, but he remembered me. He told me that he was there. That night. Nott and Carrow smiled at me, like they already knew. 

This is what's different now, Snape: I know what they think of me. But they don't know what I think of them. I'm using them now. Before Rosier could say another word, I stripped down naked, crawled over to him, pulled out his cock, and sucked him all the way down to the root. He and Nott and Carrow spent the rest of the day, fucking me like their lives depended on it.

I came until I couldn't anymore. They didn't break me. They thought they were using my body, but I was using theirs. They can't stop me from taking what I want. I asked Rosier if he had any friends who are interested. He promised he'd be in touch.

It's more than you've given me, lately.

\--H.

In late March, a different sort of letter altogether, from Narcissa Malfoy:

My dearest Severus,

I'm writing to you today not as Headmistress of Hogwarts but as Draco's mother. Unfortunately, much of my information comes from being headmistress--forgive me, but I am Draco's mother first. I find that this is one of the most awkward letters I've ever written, so I'll get right to the point: Draco has contracted Wizarding Papillomavirus. I've spoken with him, and he assures me that he's only ever had sex with two people: Harry Potter, and a prostitute that his father hired for him several years ago.

I think that you and I both know that Draco has only ever had sex with one person, but I felt that Draco's continued ignorance on this issue was acceptable.

In any case, I had Poppy examine Harry, and I hope that you're not overly surprised when I tell you that Mr Potter was also suffering from WPV. Poppy started him on potions and assured me that he would be physically cured within a few weeks. 

Mr Potter's follow-up appointment with Poppy was yesterday, and lo and behold, Poppy found that he had been reinfected with WPV and was in the early stages of a Firefarts infection. 

I assure you that Mr Potter is not the first student in Hogwarts with this problem, but his case is simultaneously delicate and extreme. Poppy has started Mr Potter on an strict regimen of potions that should cure the physical infections, but common sense indicates that more measures need to be taken to prevent reinfection. Poppy has insisted on therapy for Mr Potter, and I know that she will wish to speak to you as well. Expect an owl from her shortly, and please, don't ignore it.

For what it's worth, I tried to speak with Mr Potter. He was all sullenness and bravado. He insisted that he hasn't had sex with you in years, and then he licked his lips and asked after my husband.

This is unacceptable on so many levels, but since you will only see Harry in this debacle, I will remind you that your damaged lover is now playing with my son's heart.

Take care of this, Severus.

Narcissa Malfoy

*

When Severus's Floo chimed, he was still holding Narcissa's letter, still immobile from it. He cleared his throat and greeted Poppy, who asked if she could Floo over.

"Certainly," he said, and cleared his throat again. Moments later, Poppy arrived in his potions storage room--his den--in a swirl of green flames. And still, he held Narcissa's letter.

"Severus," Poppy said. "I have news that concerns you. Perhaps you should sit down."

Severus cleared his throat again, and clutched the letter tighter.

"Seventeen September, 1995," Severus said.

"I beg your pardon?"

"It was the last time Harry and I had sex. And the only time I told him I loved him. He responded by attacking me, and informing me that what we had was not love." He cleared his throat again. "It was ironic, because it marked two years to the day since I first raped him."

Poppy sat down on the sofa. "Why are you telling me this?"

Severus couldn't answer that question. Instead, he said, "Everything I have ever done with regards to Harry has been the wrong thing. I was supposed to die when we were done with Horcruxes--that, at least, would have been correct and proper, but somehow I didn't even manage that--Poppy--what can I do? How can I atone?"

He had dropped the letter. His face was wet. He was slumped against a shelf. " _Accio_ Harry's letter," he said, and three letters soared into his hands. He found the first one, the longest one, and gave it to Poppy. "Read it," he said. While she did, he tried to collect himself.

"Last summer, he came to me," he said, in a flat voice. "He wanted--I wanted--it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter, because I tried to explain to him that when I find myself wanting to fuck him, I hate myself for it. It seems he took that...rather more personally than I meant it."

He looked up, and Poppy was not reading the letter. She was watching him. "How did you mean it?" she asked.

His throat felt very tight. His eyes burned. "I meant," he said, his voice unaccountably thick, "that I worry that I would still be raping him. You once asked me if I'd ever had sex that was completely consensual. The answer, dear Madam, is that I do not know anymore."

Dreadful silence hung in the air for several moments, until Poppy said, "I came over here in the hopes that I could get you to agree to joint counseling sessions with Harry. I had also hoped that I might possibly talk you into individual counseling, with myself or with someone else, if you would prefer. In the interest of full disclosure, you must know that I am Harry's counselor. You may wish to find someone else who--"

"No," Severus said.

"No?"

"I mean, you're fine, you'd be better than...You're counseling Harry?"

"If it makes you uncomfortable, I can recommend--"

"Can he--can he overcome what--what I--Poppy, did I ruin him?"

"No one is ruined, Severus. And--except for death--anything can be overcome. It's true that some things take more work to overcome than others. The only real question here is: how hard are you willing to work?"

"I'll do whatever it takes."

She narrowed her eyes. "To be clear, I'm talking about you overcoming your own personal demons, Severus. Your demons, your hard truths. Will you work that hard to save yourself?"

Severus was genuinely confused. "I--I'm a monster, a--a--a rapist. Saving myself is...neither relevant nor possible."

"I want you to think about how that perception of yourself effects the people around you."

"Do you mean Harry?"

Poppy didn't react.

"Poppy," Severus said, and stopped. "Would it help Harry if instead I said that I'm not a monster? That what I did was natural and correct?"

Poppy looked exhausted. "Severus, sometimes with small children, I will give them dolls to play with. Just regular dolls, not magical at all. And then, after the child has played with the doll a bit and given it a name, I will ask, 'How does the doll feel right now?' And the child will answer, far easier than if I asked how the child feels."

"Are you saying I need a doll?"

"No, but I am thinking about asking you how Harry feels."

Severus stood up straight and uncrossed his arms. "Harry is not my _doll_ , Poppy. He is a person, unto himself, and if he knew what was best for him, he would cut me out of his life entirely. What he is feeling cannot be trusted, because _I_ tainted him, _I_ made him think I cared, _I_ pretended to show him affection because he would never fight me--on anything!--when I did so."

Poppy looked at him. "What Harry feels can't be trusted?"

"Not at all," Severus said, somewhat relieved that she seemed to understand that much.

"What does he feel, and why can't it be trusted?"

"He feels that he loves me, and it can't be trusted because his feelings are so twisted up! Did you read his letter--here, read this one, too, it should clear some things up--he thinks that if he chooses to have sex with every Death Eater, then he can undo the rapes! He thinks the same thing of me, Poppy! He only wants to have sex with me so that he can tell himself that he's in control--but that doesn't undo what I have done!"

Poppy was quiet for a long time. "Severus...Harry told me about Lucius Malfoy."

"What, that he wants to have sex with him again, too?" Severus snorted. "Good luck to him. Lucius won't touch anyone older than fifteen."

Poppy asked her next question very slowly. "So, if Harry wanted to be in control of sex with Lucius Malfoy...what should he do?"

Severus snorted. "The only thing he could do would be to find someone younger and do what I--"

The truth fell on Severus, very hard, in that moment. "Oh, shit," he said, as his knees gave way and he caught himself awkwardly on the shelves. "Oh, shit, Poppy, no--that's not--no--it's not _about_ me--Lucius never--"

But he couldn't even lie. He started sobbing before he could say another word.

Poppy stayed with him through it. She didn't look at him with pity, and she didn't get too close or go too far away. "I--I never wanted to have sex with Lucius," he whispered. "But he was always gentle," he said, wanting to be very clear on this point. "He didn't hurt me."

"Did he rape you, Severus?"

"...He didn't hurt me."

"Did he hurt Harry?" Poppy asked, very quietly.

"Not in a way you can see," Severus said, just as quietly.

"Did he rape Harry?"

"Yes, _yes_ , he _used_ Harry--Harry was just a pawn to him, he never cared about him! But Lucius is so smooth--he can take anything he wants and make you think you gave it to him willingly!"

Poppy nodded sadly. "Did he ever take what he wanted from you?"

"I'm not talking about me."

"Are you sure?"

Severus frowned and rubbed his face. "I don't--" He wasn't sure at all. He went over what he said about Harry--did it apply to _him_ , too? "Am I?" he said aloud.

"Only you can answer that. But you have externalised your trauma a great deal. Severus, I have a very serious question that I'd like to ask, and if you need to think about it, you can. Do you think Harry can ever forgive himself?"

Severus scoffed. "Harry has done nothing that needs forgiveness. And before you think that I'm conflating the two of us again--no. Unless Harry has raped any first-years in the toilets, then no. Harry and I are very different on this point."

Poppy nodded carefully. "Could Harry forgive you?"

"Of course not," Severus blurted without even considering the question. But then he remembered Lupin. He remembered Harry.

He remembered _Harry_.

"But he _will_ forgive me," he whispered, and burst into tears again.


	24. Acceptably ever after

The last term of Harry's school career was not the worst term he'd ever had. He had to keep reminding himself of that, but it wasn't a cheerful thought, really.

He had finished taking all his potions for the various infections he'd picked up from Rosier's crowd. Physically, he was as cured as he could be--even though the Firefarts infection had already done permanent damage to his liver. Madam Pomfrey told him that he had to abstain from alcohol for the rest of his life. (As it turned out, if a Firefarts infection progressed to the point where you were actually _farting fire_ , then the disease had already ravaged most of your internal organs and no magic could save you. He probably should have listened to Hermione, all those years ago.)

He felt intensely stupid for what he did that led to his own liver damage. But Madam Pomfrey insisted that he talk about it in his weekly therapy sessions, and explained to him about how there were healthy ways to take control of your body, and also more destructive ways. She explained that the destructive ways were easier and more straightforward, so most people went with those first.

It was weird, but it helped Harry feel less stupid.

And then every other week he had a joint therapy session with Snape. Those tended to be more gruelling, as he had to examine his feelings and talk about them. It left Harry feeling like he'd been scraped raw. There were two things that made Harry feel better: first, he was sure that Severus left their joint sessions feeling every bit as terrible as Harry did. And second, he took to running the grounds every evening. This was Madam Pomfrey's suggestion for a healthy way to take control of his body, and he found that running did settle his body, and therefore settled his mind.

Meanwhile, Hermione insisted on a regimented revision schedule because--as she kept saying--their entire futures depended on their N.E.W.T.s.

Harry didn't give a toss about his N.E.W.T.s, as he realised that he was enrolled in all of the wrong classes for what he wanted to do, anyway. He wanted to repair used broomsticks. After he'd written his essay on brooms for Wizarding Heritage, he was amazed by what he didn't know. To properly know how to fix a broomstick, he needed Runes, Arithmancy, Charms, and Potions. He told Hermione of his desires, and she encouraged him to talk to McGonagall.

He was worried that McGonagall would be disappointed, but she seemed quite happy to tell him all she knew. "After all, better to be a late bloomer than a never-bloomer, Potter." She told him there was a trade school in London where they taught broom repair, including all the basics he'd need to know. "And you'd learn it in a hands-on environment, which I think has always suited you better," she said.

"Books were never really my thing," Harry agreed.

"Hm," she said. "Nor essays. But your practical work never suffered for it. Even so, you should do the best you can on the N.E.W.T.s you're taking, especially Charms and Transfiguration."

"Why Transfiguration?" he asked.

"Because, Potter," she said with a perfectly straight face, "it is the best subject. Now, off you go."

*

But the worst thing he had to do all term was break things off with Draco. He knew it had to be done, because Draco was in love while Harry was not. And the whole sex thing was pretty messed up, too. Harry hadn't really hidden the fact that he'd been sleeping around, but sometimes Draco would say something to Harry and it was...not something you would say to a partner who was fucking around on you. And they hadn't had sex since Draco had been diagnosed with WPV--and Harry hadn't had sex with anyone since he was _rediagnosed_ with WPV--but they were all clear now, so Draco was beginning to broadly hint that he wanted to have sex again.

And Harry did not want to have sex again.

And this was setting aside Harry's history with Lucius, not to mention his history with Draco, neither of which Draco knew about. So the whole relationship felt terribly unfair to Harry, but he wasn't sure how to go about the break-up.

Telling the truth seemed inadvisable. Harry suddenly knew what Dumbledore meant, when he said that the truth was a dangerous thing.

When Harry pulled Draco into an empty classroom and told him that he wanted to break up, Draco, of course, wanted an explanation. Harry hedged.

"Because I don't think we want the same things."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You don't _think_ we want the same things? Why don't you just tell me what you want, and I'll tell you if it's also what I want?"

"I want someone I can be honest with," Harry said, not wanting to be mean, but hating the way it sounded.

Draco, though, was unimpressed. "Excellent, and I want you to be honest with me. So far we agree."

Harry's stomach flipped unpleasantly. "I can't be honest with you, though."

Draco moved in uncomfortably close. "You think my parents didn't tell me what happened with the Dark Lord?"

Harry's head very suddenly filled with cotton. His vision narrowed and he blinked and tried to listen to Draco. _I'm at Hogwarts, I'm not there, he's not here, he's dead_ , he told himself. _But Draco knows!_ , supplied another, less helpful, voice.

"...and of course I know that she didn't kill the Dark Lord and are you even listening?"

"Sorry, no," Harry gasped. "What did Lucius tell you about me?"

Draco actually took a step back. "Don't take liberties, Potter. You are not on a first-name basis with my father."

Harry laughed hysterically. "Have you told him? That you're fucking me?"

Draco shifted. "Of course not."

Harry kept laughing. He needed to stop, but he couldn't.

"Harry, I have to marry a _girl_ \--my parents have made that quite clear. I only told my mother about you because of...you know."

Harry covered his face with his hands and tried to compose himself. It worked, mostly. "Draco," he said, and lowered his hands. "Everything is...so fucked up. And you don't even know it, and...Christ. It's not your fault. I'm sorry," he said, and tried to leave the room.

But Draco pulled his wand and sealed the door just before Harry reached it. "Not good enough, Harry. You owe me better than that."

Harry tugged on the door, and tried some unlocking charms while he was at it. Giving up, he rested his forehead on the door. "What do you think I owe you?" he asked the door.

"The truth, at the very least. Where's your Gryffindor sense of honour, anyway?"

Harry snorted, close to losing it again. He felt tears in the corners of his eyes, and wiped them. "Draco, trust me: when a Gryffindor doesn't _want_ to tell you the truth, you should fucking _take heed_."

"A Gryffindor shouldn't presume to advise a Slytherin on the best course of action," Draco shot back fiercely. He moved up behind Harry, and said in a soft voice, "Tell me, Harry--tell me what's wrong and we can fix it."

Something like a laugh escaped Harry's throat, and he wiped another tear. "Ask Lucius," he said gruffly.

"Stop calling him that."

"Oh, but he insisted," Harry said. The truth--the terrible truth--was too close to bubbling out of him. "Please," he said. "Please stop, Draco."

Draco didn't move, didn't say another word. Harry tried to open the door again, uselessly. He gripped his wand and prayed a simple _Alohamora_ , to no avail.

The silence stretched. Harry tried the handle again. "Please don't," he said again.

"Just tell me why you want to break up with me," Draco said. His voice sounded thick. "It's not fair to judge me because of my father, by the way. I know he made some bad choices, but that has nothing to do with me."

" _Bad choices_?"

"He did terrible things--I know it, you know it. I _know_ what he did--he told me he--he--he turned you over to the Dark Lord, to save my life. I know it's fucked up. I _know_ it, Harry, and I'm sorry--he didn't tell me--not until it was all over--I'm so sorry--"

Harry was so astonished by this that he turned around and looked at Draco, who stopped when he saw Harry's face.

"Wha--" Draco spluttered, uncharacteristically. "You di--did you not--how could you not--shit, Harry--I thought you--"

"No," Harry said, still floundering a bit himself. "I knew that, of course."

"But you--that's not what you're talking about. That's not why you're breaking up with me."

"No, I had forgotten about that."

"Then what the _fuck_ is your problem?"

Harry took a deep breath, then another. He reached for a lie that was true. "The problem is that you're likeable enough for a shithead, Draco, and I don't want to hurt you--as I will hurt you. You know I've been fucking other people since Christmas, right? I gave you WPV?"

Draco took a step back. "It was just that once, and you didn't like it, you said. And it's more likely that I got WPV from that prostitute and gave it to you, and I know that's fucked up, but that has nothing to do with _this_."

Harry blinked.

"Okay," Draco conceded. "Maybe that has something to do with this--shit, I know it was a mistake, but it was just a _prostitute_! It meant _nothing_ , and I hated myself for it afterwards, and it wasn't even my idea--shit, is that why you hate my father so much?"

Harry blinked again. He couldn't begin to untangle that. "Draco," he tried, but his voice was a whisper. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Draco. I was the prostitute."

Draco's face crumbled. "Don't--please don't," he said. "I know it was a violation, a terrible misuse of Polyjuice, but I _learned_ from it, and I _never_ confused you with that...that _imposter_."

"Draco," Harry tried, not sure he could say it again. "I. Was. The prostitute."

Draco started to look worried. "Harry," he said slowly. "Are you quite well?"

Now that Harry had started down this path, it was desperately important for him to get Draco there as well. "Who was the prostitute, then?"

"Just a nobody--some Muggle my father found."

"A Muggle who was cool with Polyjuice?"

"Oh," Draco said. "Then I guess it was a wizard--but what does it matter? Harry, the prostitute was a _prostitute_ \--he--he knew _a lot_ about sex. You would have been fourteen yourself, at the time--what, were you some kind of sex prodigy at fourteen?"

"I knew a lot about sex, but nothing about power."

"He had pierced nipples," Draco said stubbornly. "Harry, I _know_ he wasn't you!"

Harry sighed.

"Harry, that can't have been you," Draco said patiently. "I can't even imagine what is going on in your head right now--Polyjuice does not make a person _you_!--Harry, I'm so sorry, this is my fault. I was fourteen and an idiot, but I never should have gone along with my father's plans--but listen to me: Polyjuice is not enough to make some random _whore_ into _Harry Potter_. The prostitute could never have been you."

Harry couldn't really account for how much Draco's words hurt. "Name one difference," Harry choked out.

"I--I could never love a prostitute," Draco whispered, his face open and earnest.

_Bad news_ , Harry thought, and turned away. Crying freely now, he said, "Please let me out." He fumbled for the handle, and it unlatched this time. He fled the room.

*

Ron was flopped on his bed, reading _Quidditch Weekly_ and hiding from Hermione's strict revising targets, when Hedwig flew in and landed right on his bed.

"Hey girl," he said, barely looking up. "Harry's still out."

Hedwig gave a low hoot and head-butted his shoulder.

"Oh," he said, feeling stupid. "You want me?"

Hedwig flew to the window and perched on the sill. Ron followed her and looked over the grounds, and saw a small figure throwing rocks in the lake. Hedwig gave a sad hoot.

"Yeah, yeah," Ron said. "But this will only work if Hermione's already left for the library."

Luckily, she had, so Ron's path to the lake was clear. Ten minutes later, he sat down next to Harry without waiting for an invitation. Harry grunted and threw a rock into the lake. It gave a satisfying, glurping kind of splash. Ron found a good rock and skipped it, four times. "No magic," he said with a grin. "That was all skill."

Harry snorted and picked up a round rock as big as his palm. He skipped it five times. "Skill," he said. "No magic."

Ron cuffed him on the back of the head. "Don't be a prat."

Harry sniffed and threw another rock. No skips, just a splash. "I broke up with Draco."

"Oh," Ron said. He didn't know what to think about that. Malfoy was _Malfoy_ , but he seemed okay since he came out of hiding. Also, he seemed to really like Harry, but Harry was a bit weird about the whole thing.

Probably because of that one time when Malfoy's dad made Harry have sex with Malfoy when he was still a kid.

"Are you sad about it?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "More sad about how it happened, I think."

"Did he ever know it was you, back then?"

Harry shook his head. "Did he know he lost his virginity to me? No. Lucius told him I was just some prostitute with Polyjuice." He threw a rock, and it splashed into the lake. "Funny story, though--I just now tried to tell Draco that it was me, that I was the prostitute. He didn't believe me, no matter what I said."

Harry sometimes said these terrible things, and Ron never knew what to do with them. It seemed like he should make a joke, but there didn't seem to be a joke in the world that could contain the tragedy. "Did I ever tell you I once ate rat poop?"

The joke fell flat, and Harry sighed. "It's not...like that."

Weirdly, Ron knew what he meant. "Your problem is that Malfoy would probably believe me if I told him I ate rat poop."

Harry scrunched up his face. "Exactly."

"Alright," Ron said, and stood up. "This has been enough moping over a bloke that you didn't even like enough to keep dating."

"I'm not sure we were ever _dating_."

"You went on dates," Ron said accusingly. "But for the sake of your pride--fine. We'll say instead that you didn't like him enough to keep shagging him. _And_ he thinks you're a liar, so."

"He thought I was mentally unstable, actually."

"Win-GAR-dium, WING-gardium," Ron said dismissively, and Harry actually laughed at that. Ron held out a hand to help Harry up. "Let's go flying," he said, and Harry agreed.

Luckily, when they got to the pitch, Ginny and Dean were already there, playing a mean game of Dragon. They watched as Ginny faced outward from the middle hoop, then did a perfectly-executed backflip, while simultaneously throwing the Quaffle into the left hoop. She grinned hugely at Dean, who said loudly, "Oh, you are _kidding_ me."

"Did you boys come here to save Dean from a humiliating loss?" Ginny called out.

"Too late for that, I think," Dean groaned. "I've already got D-R-A-G, and Gin's not even got a D yet."

"Ready for some two-a-side, then?" Ron did take a moment to consider his friendship with Harry--he really did. It's just that Ginny had just made a goal at an impossible angle _while in the middle of a backflip_. "Weasleys versus Non?" he asked too-casually.

Harry thwacked Ron on the arm and took off toward Dean. "What do you say, Dean? Death to all gingers?"

"For the sake of our honour!" Dean called with gusto. "Death to all gingers!"

"For all that they're our friends, they seem quick off the mark with calls for our murder," Ginny said coolly.

"It's jealousy that drives them to it," Ron said. Ginny laughed, and the siblings soon had Harry and Dean in a 60-point hole. Then the two boys rallied close the gap to 20 points, but could never overcome the deficit. The game ended at 150-110, in favour of the Weasleys.

"It was nice carrying you, Ron," Ginny said amiably.

"It was nice being carried," Ron agreed, and put his arm around her neck and mussed her hair. She caught him with a stinging hex and he danced away, right into Harry's shoulder. Harry laughed.

Ginny pulled Dean ahead of them and hurried back to the castle while Ron and Harry took a more leisurely pace. "You thought any more about the Muggle Liaison Office?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Ron said, because he had. It had a lot to do with his dad, and the fact that his dad had been so fascinated by Muggles, and yet had never lived with them. But Ron had spent nearly half a year, moving from one Muggle home to the next, and all of them had wall plugs and light switches and telephones. And Harry and Hermione had both acted like it was nothing, to wiggle a whatsis on a wall and have a light come on, with absolutely _no magic_. Once, Hermione had used the telephone to have a man _bring them a pizza_. And Harry had been pleased but obviously not astounded, and Hermione acted like it was _completely normal_ , and Snape-- _Snape_ \--all Snape had said was, "You should have got black olives."

(Ron would never forget it as long as he lived. Hermione, without any magic or house elves or anything, had contacted a Muggle in a kitchen somewhere, and that Muggle made a pizza and brought it to wherever they were at the time-- _Ron_ didn't even know where they were, but the Muggle who made the pizza somehow knew--and Snape saw it and said, "You should have got black olives.")

"I'm taking the Muggle Studies N.E.W.T.," Ron told Harry. "Professor Burbage says that it doesn't matter than I missed the O.W.L., and, er, Dara Ochiltree from the Muggle Liaison Office said the same thing." 

"She wrote you?"

"Yeah, er--Professor Burbage gave me her owl address and told me to write, and, er...yeah. She wrote back. She said that all I have to do is scrape an A at N.E.W.T. level, and I'd be welcome to work with them and that..." His throat stopped up, but he really wanted to say it, so he cleared his throat and said, "And that Arthur Weasley was one of the best men she ever knew."

There was an awkward silence. Ron had never fully appreciated how hard it was when a dead parent came up in conversation. He didn't know how Harry did it all those years.

"You want to talk about anything?" Ron asked, hoping for a change of subject.

"Not really," Harry said.

Ron sighed. "Look, I'm glad you've been hanging out more lately, because I missed it. But something has obviously been going on with you since around Christmas, and...I've been worried. Was it to do with Malfoy, is everything all sorted now?"

"Ron," Harry said, and stopped. He started again, quietly. "No matter what I've done, not matter what's happened to me, you've always made me feel normal, and there's no one else, ever, who has done that for me. But this..."

Ron had a guess what 'this' was about. "It's about Snape, innit?"

"It's about Snape," Harry said, and his whole posture slumped, his feet dragging. Ron stayed quiet and walked slower to keep pace.

"It's just--he keeps saying that I can't trust what I feel. And that's just..."

"Bollocks," Ron supplied.

"Bollocks! If I can't trust what I feel, then what have I got, Ron?"

"A really lousy boyfriend, it sounds like."

Harry snorted. "He's not my boyfriend. He never was."

Ron stopped, and Harry stopped with him. "Look, I know it's not...conventional," Ron began. "And it's not what I would ever choose in a million years--and maybe I'm wrong, maybe it's all in the past, anyway, but--Harry. Snape was _absolutely_ your boyfriend."

"Bu--uh--it--It's not like that!"

"Not like what? Not like you wanted to protect him, and he wanted to protect you? Wasn't like you cared about each other? Wasn't like he threw away hundreds of galleons when we were broke, just because you asked him to, and wasn't like you jumped in front of a bloody Killing Curse to save his life? Then Harry, please, tell me what it's actually like, because I'd like to know."

Harry was panting with anger, but he collected himself. "It's like he took advantage of me. It's like he sold me to others. It's like he used me."

"Well, yeah. It's Snape. He's an arse. He does arsey things."

"And I'm supposed to just forgive him?"

Ron sighed. "Mate, you either do, or you don't. Either way. But don't lie to yourself and say you haven't forgiven him if you already have."

Harry turned away and started walking again, but back out toward the lake. He didn't walk particularly fast, so Ron decided to walk with him.

"Ron, how fucked up am I?"

"I think the real question is, how fucked up does Snape have to be before he's not worth it anymore."

Harry didn't say anything, just kept walking. So Ron kept talking. "I think...I think Snape probably has a harder time accepting your forgiveness that you have forgiving him."

Harry kept walking silently till he got to the lake's edge. Then he said, "How are things going with Hermione?"

Ron accepted the subject change. "Harry, I can sit next to her for hours--literal hours--burning with the thought of our proximity and wondering if I should snog her, or hold her hand, or maybe just move closer--and then she says something very quietly, and my heart _leaps_ , and I say, 'What?' And she says--I'm not making this up--she says, 'Oh! I forgot you were there.'"

"Huh."

"Yeah. So. That's how things are going with Hermione. I'm thinking about snogging, and she's wondering if Golpalott's Fifth Law is the one to do with reducing a potion, or if that's the Fourth Law."

"Hm."

"I'm spineless. I should just snog her and see what would happen."

"She'd hex you."

"There's that, yeah. Also, fuck you."

Harry laughed. "You shouldn't feel bad. It doesn't mean she doesn't like you back, you know. She's just... _really focused_ right now. You should tell her how you feel, but you should definitely wait until after N.E.W.T.s."

Ron snorted. "Let's just take a moment and bask in the irony of either of us giving love advice to the other, shall we?"

They looked out over the lake. Harry pulled in a long breath and expelled it. "Supper, then?"

Ron agreed immediately.

*

On Tuesday at four o'clock, Harry had his weekly therapy session with Madam Pomfrey. And because it was an odd Tuesday, it meant that Severus would be there, too. Which was terrible. So on Tuesday at five minutes before four o'clock, Harry trudged down the corridor, dreading his destination. Talking to Severus was so much worse than fucking him ever was. He wondered if he should tell Madam Pomfrey that, some time.

"Harry!" Draco called from somewhere behind him. "Wait up!"

Harry did wait up, although he wasn't sure that talking to Draco would be better than talking to Severus and Madam Pomfrey.

"Come in here," Draco said, and grabbed Harry's hand and tugged him into a classroom.

"Draco, I have an appointment--"

"Never mind that," Draco said. "I just wanted to clear some things up."

Harry pushed up his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Draco..."

"Why did you break up with me?" Draco asked.

"Because I don't love you," Harry said. He hadn't meant to say it like that, but he _did_ have somewhere else to be, and he really didn't want to talk to Draco about this, ever.

Draco looked stung. "And--what--you don't think you ever could? Love me?"

"No," Harry said. Shit. He really needed to stop saying the first thing that came to his mind.

"W--why not?"

"Because I WAS THE PROSTITUTE!" Harry screamed, losing his temper entirely. "Except that I didn't even get _paid_ \--I did it for _free_ because your _father_ could be so convincing when his cock was up my arse!" He shoved his way out of the classroom, and stumbled down the corridor and around the corner to the top of the staircases--

\--where he ran directly into Severus. "Shit," Harry said, and grabbed at Severus, even though he didn't look like he'd lost his balance at all.

"That eager to get to counseling?" Severus said drily.

"Not at all. Just trying to get away from Draco," Harry said, then clamped his mouth shut. Whatever mood he was in, he hoped it didn't lead to disaster in today's therapy session. He looked over his shoulder; Draco wasn't behind him.

"Hm," Snape said, and they walked the rest of the way to the hospital wing in silence. Harry was preoccupied with Draco. He didn't know if he was relieved to have said what he said, or horrified. Urgh, had he really yelled at Draco about Lucius's cock being up his arse? It would probably put Draco off, anyway--but still.

"Severus! Harry!" Madam Pomfrey greeted, when they walked in the hospital wing. "Have a seat, have a seat, how are you gentlemen today?"

"Worried," Harry said, just as Severus said, "Constipated."

"Why are you worried, Harry?"

"Because I seem to be saying the first thing that pops into my head," he muttered.

"This is different from your usual?" Severus asked.

" _Yes,_ " Harry said. "Yes."

"Please--if only for the sake of our elucidation--please inform us of _one time_ you have refrained from speaking your mind," Severus said.

Harry looked at Madam Pomfrey, who smiled at him. He looked back at Severus. "I've wanted to tell you that I love you. Several times, actually, going back for years--but I know that you'll react badly to it." He looked down, a bit in shock that he'd actually said it, but relieved all the same.

Severus didn't say anything. Finally, Madam Pomfrey said, "Severus? How does that make you feel?"

"Terrible."

"Why?"

"Because he must be mistaken," Severus said.

"I'm not," Harry said.

"But why should he be mistaken, Severus?"

"He can't love me. No one can love me. I'm unloveable."

Harry looked up sharply at Severus, who had a look of growing horror on his face. "Poppy! Stop asking us questions!"

"What?" Madam Pomfrey said.

"I said, stop asking us questions!"

"But why?"

"We are incapable of subterfuge! We are compelled to answer honestly! Harry--what did you _do_?"

"I've just been sat here!" Harry said.

Severus stood up and stared at his hands. "The effects are not like Veritaserum, and it must be topical--Harry, you touched me, at the top of the staircase."

"Yes," Harry said, even though it hadn't really been a question.

"What did you touch, before you touched me?"

"Nothing--the door--Draco--Draco grabbed my hands--"

"Draco grabbed your hands? Why?"

"He wanted to talk," Harry said.

"He asked you questions?"

"Ye-esss," Harry said, frowning. Then, "Oh, shit."

But Severus was already grabbing Harry and leading him back to the corner of the room, where there was a large sink.

"Severus, what are you doing?" Madam Pomfrey asked, following close behind.

"I'm going to wash our hands--I believe we've been dosed with Exhibition Elixir, and if we can merely wash it off our skin, then the effects won't last."

When they reached the sink, Severus muttered, "Don't talk, don't ask questions, it will be for the best." He turned on the taps and held Harry's hands under the water. He grabbed for soap and lathered it and washed his own hands, then washed Harry's hands, very carefully and thoroughly. It was weirdly personal. Severus washed up and down each finger, paying careful attention to each fingertip, then washed down between all of his fingers, then the pad of his thumb, then his palm, then the back of his hand... And then the same for the other hand. Harry just stood still and let him. It was profoundly intimate, but not sexual. Harry felt like a child, but not in a bad way. He felt...cared for.

Then Severus pulled his hands under the tap and rinsed them off. Then he straightened up. "Harry, I will ask you a question, and you should try to answer with a lie, do you understand?"

"Yes," Harry said, holding his hands to the side, as they were still dripping.

"What is your favourite colour?"

"All of them, really," Harry said immediately.

Severus frowned. "Is...is that a lie?"

"No," Harry said miserably. "Sorry."

"Perhaps you should clean under his nails?" Madam Pomfrey suggested.

"Yes, of course," Severus said, and put Harry's hands back under the water, and picked up a brush and started to clean under Harry's nails. Then he cleaned under his own nails, and dried off both their hands with a towel that Madam Pomfrey handed them. "Let's try again, shall we?" Severus said.

"Sure," Harry said.

"And you'll remember to lie this time?"

"Yes," Harry promised.

"Why don't you have a favourite colour?"

"Because when I was a kid at Privet Drive, in the cupboard under the stairs, everything was grey and brown and black and boring. And when I came to Hogwarts, everything was red and yellow and green and blue, and I just loved all of it."

Severus sighed.

"I'm sorry," Harry said again.

"Not your fault," Severus gritted. "You should probably ask me a question. Please ask something--"

"Do you love me?" Harry asked, because it was the only question he could think of.

"--innocuous, yes of course I love you, how could I not love you?"

"Because I'm damaged," Harry choked out. "Because you saw what those men did to me." Tears sprang to Harry's eyes, but he was compelled to add, "Because you saw me enjoying it."

Severus clenched his jaw.

"Maybe you need to wash your faces, too," Madam Pomfrey said gently. "You both have a habit of touching your faces." She held out a flannel.

Severus took it, and got it wet and lathered it up with soap. "Close your eyes, Harry," he said.

Harry did, and Severus cleaned his face, very gently and thoroughly.

"Harry," Severus said in a quiet voice. Harry kept his eyes closed, even though Severus was washing his chin. "The body reacts the way it will react. It has nothing to do with your emotions or your desires. I know--I understand--that you climaxed that night, but that says nothing-- _nothing_ \--about your desires. About your heart." Severus moved on to Harry's cheek, and Harry reached for his wrists, holding on to Severus while he continued his ministrations.

"This is why," Severus said, even more quietly, just above a whisper, "I cannot trust you when you say you love me. I know that I can please your body, Harry, but I don't think I can ever please your heart."

Harry felt cracked open. He blinked his eyes open and began blubbering like an idiot--maybe Madam Pomfrey would think it was because of the soap in his eyes. And there was soap in his eyes, and it did sting, but that didn't change the fact that he was blubbering like an idiot. "Severus," he said. "Do you want to please my heart?"

"Yes," Severus said, and he looked like Harry felt. Only he couldn't blame it on soap in his eyes.

"I understand that. I do! And it...it means something to me. It means a lot." His words got caught up in his chest, and everything felt very tight down there, anyway. "It means a lot," he said again.

He closed his eyes again, and Severus rinsed off his face, but Harry kept crying. Severus kept wiping his tears until they stopped. Then Severus dried his face with a towel. "My favourite colour is pink," Harry said experimentally.

"Is it?" Severus said.

"Oh, yes, always has been," Harry said with a smile. "What's your favourite colour?"

"Green," Severus said. "The colour of your eyes."

"Shit," Harry said. "I didn't mean to--here, let me wash your face."

And Severus closed his eyes and let him.

*

Severus would have thought that speaking his innermost thoughts to Harry would be the worst thing that could happen to him. But oddly, it was almost the opposite. Poppy had been telling him not to be afraid of the truth, but he hadn't thought she'd been _right_. After the session when he and Potter had been inadvertently dosed with Exhibition Elixir, he had felt oddly...light. In fact, he had owled Poppy the day after, telling her how good he felt and how well he slept and how he felt hopeful for the future, and how he didn't think he'd need therapy sessions with her any longer. She had owled him back: _I'm glad you're feeling better, Severus. I'll see you at our usual time, next Tuesday at 7 pm._

He thought that was ridiculous, but Poppy again proved herself adept: by the following Tuesday he was already full of self-recrimination. But she was hopeful about his breakthrough, and gave him mind-centering exercises to do, and recommended yoga.

Yoga. Severus Snape, in a Muggle yoga class. Old Tobias would have been more horrified by Severus taking yoga than by him being a wizard _and_ being homosexual, put together. Which was part of the reason Severus enrolled immediately and started attending Monday evening yoga classes in London. He showed up to his first class in absolutely the wrong clothes, but no one looked at him like he was a freak, and he found the experience oddly...relaxing and stimulating, both at the same time. After class was over, the teacher assured him that he could wear whatever clothes he was most comfortable in, but he did recommend a shop that sold clothes like the ones worn by the other people in the class.

Meanwhile, he kept up his brewing. And started corresponding with Harry by owl.

They decided to start dating once Harry was out of Hogwarts. Dating. It was Granger's suggestion, but Severus had to admit that it had merits. It should have been odd--and maybe it had been at first, when they had gone out for coffee and chatted idly (Harry was living with Ron Weasley, and planning on attending the Technical Institute of London, specialising in broom repair, starting in September)--and maybe it got really odd by the end of the evening, when Harry walked Severus to his house and shook his hand and walked away--

But Severus didn't hate a moment of it. On their next date, he learned that Harry had earned N.E.W.T.s in Charms, Transfigurations, and Defence Against the Dark Arts, and that most of those subjects wouldn't be helpful when it came to repairing brooms. On the date after that, Severus loaned Harry his favourite text on Ancient Runes--and Harry actually read it and asked questions about it a few weeks later.

Harry took very well to his broom repair classes. In October, Severus found a battered old Shooting Star in a rummage sale, and gave it to Harry as a joke. In November, Harry gave back to him the very same Shooting Star, only much improved. "It still tends to list southward," Harry said apologetically. "So if you're flying at speed, you should keep both hands on it--unless you're going south, of course. But I fixed the braking and acceleration, and added some extra cushioning charms, and it's really not a bad broom at all."

Severus could only stare at him. Harry said, "I'm sorry about the listing problem--they said that would take runes and a potion working together, and we'll work on that sort of thing next term."

"No," Severus said. "This is amazing, thank you."

"Oh," Harry said, his face turning a shade darker.

Meanwhile, they both kept seeing Poppy, together and separately.

In December, they took a walk through a quiet park, looking for Balm Violets that only bloomed under certain conditions. During the walk, Harry slipped his hand into Severus's and said, "Is this okay?"

Severus had no ready reply. He hadn't touched Harry in such a long time, and he couldn't ever remember holding hands with anyone. Certainly not Harry. And Harry's casual _is this okay?_ \--it reminded Severus of an exercise that he'd had to do with Poppy about consent. He'd had to read over scenarios and decide if the characters had both consented--and one of them was literally a boy asking a girl if he could hold her hand. She said yes, and so they held hands. It was the most straightforward and ridiculous scenario and he'd mocked it slightly. But now Severus wondered if Poppy made Potter do the same exercise.

But Severus had been quiet too long, and Harry slipped his hand away. "Sorry," Harry said, turning a shade darker.

"No," Severus said, and reached for Harry's hand and squeezed it. "I'd like to hold hands," he said, and flushed furiously at his own ridiculousness. "I was just...surprised."

Harry smiled awkwardly, but they managed to continue their walk while holding hands. Severus thought it was very nice, actually. He found three different clusters of the violets and Harry helped him collect the blooms. When it was almost time to part, they turned to face each other, still holding hands. "I'd like to kiss you," Severus said. Then he hastily added, "If that's acceptable to you."

Merlin, he felt like a tit. Surely Poppy's consent scenarios couldn't work in real life. But then Harry said, "Of course," and they shared a kiss that was very nearly chaste. But it lingered a bit too long and they broke apart a bit too slowly--so no, the kiss was not chaste at all. When Severus opened his eyes, Harry was biting his lip. 

"Er," Harry said.

"I was thinking," Severus said hoping to move on from any awkwardness, "that we could attend a concert next Saturday? How do you feel about chamber music?"

"Chamber music?" Harry said.

"Yes," Severus said. "I could get tickets for us, if you'd like."

"I'd like it very much," Harry said.

"You've no idea what chamber music is, do you?"

Harry pulled back. "What's there to know? There's music, there's a chamber, it's chamber music."

"Sounds kinky."

"Well, you're involved, so. There's that. Let's go, yeah, I look forward to it."

"It's classical music. With a small orchestra, maybe five pieces."

"Oh. Well, sure. That's fine." He cleared his throat. "Boring, I mean. But fine."

Severus felt something building in his chest. It felt warm. He let it fill him. "Harry," he said, squeezing his hand.

"Yes?"

"How much longer will we date?"

Harry smiled. "I was hoping we wouldn't ever stop, actually."

Severus blinked.

"Of course," Harry said, "we could modify the terms." He stepped closer. "If we can agree."

"Agree?" Severus said. Harry brought Severus's hand to his chest, adjusting his grip so that he held Severus by the wrist. Severus cleared his throat. "To what?"

"To the new terms," Harry said. He blinked slowly. "For example, I would like add kissing, if that's okay with you."

Severus looked at his hand, held in front of Harry's chest. He opened it slowly, turned it, and felt Harry's heart beating beneath it. "Kissing," he said stupidly. "Yes."

"Good," Harry said. "Good. Kissing."

"I would also like for you to come home with me tonight."

"Yeah?"

"And we could have sex?"

Harry caught his breath, and Severus wondered if this was a normal way for people to navigate their sexual encounters.

"Is that a question?" Harry asked. "Do you _want_ to have sex?"

"Very much so, yes," Severus rasped. "If...if you want to?"

"Very much so."

"And...and," Severus didn't know why he felt suddenly shy. It was ridiculous. Foolish. "And I'd like for you to come with me to the chamber music concert next Saturday."

Harry laughed. "Yes, Severus. Yes."

**Author's Note:**

> So, yeah. Yeah. Meet my id. [MY ID IS TERRIBLE] This is mos. def. not my usual-type story. If you would like to leave a comment, good or bad, feel free. Let's see if your reasons for hating this fic match up with mine! (Talking about shit like this isn't about being _comfortable_ , right?)
> 
> While we're being honest with each other here, I'm going to tell you what bothers me the most about my own fic. It's that I seem to have the ridiculous idea that abusers who still abuse people just haven't found the right victim yet. (NOTE: I do not believe this.) (BUT YOU WOULDN'T KNOW THAT FROM THIS STORY, WOULD YOU?) Also, I seem to cling to this Pollyanna notion that people can actually change for the better and learn from their mistakes. And also that witches and wizards exist and can do, like, spells and stuff--LISTEN. It's a _story_. Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, is HIGHLY UNLIKELY and certainly coincidental.
> 
> I finished this fic and posted most of it while the Harvey Weinstein trial was going on and...okay, I have thoughts and feelings about all of that. It...I mean...some people act like it's weird or unusual or ...I dunno, even unbelievable?--that rape victims might continue a relationship with their rapist, and...listen, if you have to keep working with an abuser anyway because the situation demands it, well, I think it's perfectly natural that you shut down any part of you that might be uncomfortable, and even might try to tell yourself that the rapist will eventually see that they were wrong, and that they are sorry that they ever hurt you, and that they really do love you. Because that would just make everything okay, right? --So, I dunno, it's like this story is like the worst type of wish fulfillment, because it just never happens like this, does it--no matter that the victim might hope that it does, and may even consent to sex later on in the hopes that it will all work out. But rapists don't generally trade in apologies or remorse--or honesty. And when Harvey Weinstein's lawyers act like the sex had to be consensual, just because the women continued to see Harvey after it happened--and when I remember Bill Cosby's lawyers arguing something similar--AAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH. Just, ARGH. Don't _make_ me send Hermione Jean Granger over to you to explain about consent and coercion, and the complicated human emotions that arise when consent is absent and coercion is firmly in place.
> 
> Anyway.
> 
> (I'm especially unsure of this whole thing, because this is the first time I've ever posted anything without Murph reading it first. This story is really not her cup of tea. She would know, because she very patiently listened to me yammer on about it for nearly two years. She even helped with some fairly major plot points--even if every conversation ended with her saying, "You'd just better tag the story. In capital letters. And warn about it in the notes. Seriously. Don't let anyone accidentally read this." She also answered my questions about British board games--I could ask google, but it's so much nicer if she asks google for me. However, even without google, she was like, "Ooo, they could play checkers, but with a Q. Checkwers." And I was like, [mind blown] "checkers but with a Q." And then she said, "But you _are_ going to warn about the rapes, right?")


End file.
